Soldiers of Metal
by ArmageddonClan
Summary: Post-Stench of Purexo FF Part 5. Have the three ex-Agents and one ex-night security guard already chosen their ultimate direction in music - and possibly, also in life? Do the demons still potentially haunting them exist only in theirs minds, or also out there in reality?
1. Chapter 1 - Sabbath Bloody Sabbath

Continues from Hand of Doom. Maybe this time it's the final finale for real!

Chapter song titles in order: Black Sabbath, Jess and the Ancient Ones, Doro, Iron Maiden, Bloodbound, Demonaz, Judas Priest, Slayer, Battle Beast, Yngwie Malmsteen, Bruce Dickinson, Tiamat, Virgin Steele, Accept, Avantasia, Battle Beast, Gamma Ray, Kruiz, Judas Priest, Allen & Lande, Yngwie Malmsteen, Iron Maiden, Anthrax, Black Sabbath, Stratovarius

\- ArmageddonClan

...

 **Chapter 1 - Sabbath Bloody Sabbath  
**

The studio reverberated with a low twin-guitar doom metal riff in triplet rhythm. It was a six-note repeating pattern moving from one chord to the next in a minor key, deceptively simple at first listen, but still a memory challenge in the very least, as the intervals changed for each chord.

But finally the result was satisfying. The sounds of both guitars died down.

"We'll see how it goes tomorrow," Jo said.

There had already been one session, which was just jamming. But tomorrow their four-piece band would actually play the songs they had ready so far. Jo and Ian were mostly responsible for the music, while Kim wrote the lyrics.

This riff belonged to the doom metal epic, "Into the Hands of Doom," which could extend over seven minutes if they kept the solos and jam section at the end at full length. The other was called "Light Bringer," and it was shorter, almost just straight rock, mellow and occultistic.

"You don't sound that enthusiastic," Ian remarked. He had already jumped on the studio couch, and appeared relaxed. Content.

While Jo was not sure if she could relax just yet.

Doom was the direction they had decided in the absinthe session at the cabin. What they had all agreed on. It was a change of pace from the relentless thrash assault practically all of their musical career had been. And Jo remembered thinking of how aggressive metal had its own restrictive rules, while here they could do practically anything they wanted. Like the contrast between the two songs already pointed out.

"Maybe I keep second-guessing too much. It's just … sure it was fun to jam with the four of us, and play out all the doom cliches to their maximum. But will we sustain it for years?"

"We just have to find the way we do things," Ian said.

"Right. You have to give it time. But I was thinking back to AGENT. Just the three of us. It was relentless. Everything just locked in and felt right."

On the couch, Ian was shaking his head slowly. Jo understood it was not a time he thought of as highly.

"I'm not sure if I could go back to that. It was relentless, that's true. But every riff, every lyric I made – I think it was out of fear. Not necessarily consciously, but there was the feeling in the back of my head, that there might not be the next day. It was a lot of things. Like dreaming of Quorthon. Or that I – or we – would be exposed somehow."

Jo considered his words. If she was honest to herself, it had been much the same for her. And the fear for being exposed – it had been a hundred-percent justified.

Their whole run-in with the MSA, and the adventure that had resulted.

Jo knew she utilized a very selective memory of the whole episode, blanking out most of it, or almost thinking of it like a dream already. She had just kept the fun parts. Like Ian's legendary interview video. Or even before that, the just as legendary drinking session with WyvernForce.

But Jo remembered that it, too, had been kickstarted by an almost crushing anxiety.

If that was the price you needed to pay for relentless intensity, it sounded awfully high. They would just need to see how this direction would develop. Well, the world was always going to shit in some manner, and in theory that would be a limitless amount of doom metal inspiration. It was just that it was not personal.

And if it would not develop –

Jo thought of something almost ridiculous, which was most often Ian's territory.

"What?" Ian asked.

Jo understood her expression had given something away. She almost did not want to explain, but then she thought, what the hell.

"I had this idea. If music doesn't take off, we could publish a self-help book. For relationships. It just requires awfully specific starting points. Like, if you're one the run with false identities in a tiny hatchback, this is what you need to do –"

Ian's face lit up.

"That's easy. I could reserve two chapters right away. How to make an endearing fool of yourself. Including hospital stealth. And minimum distance bridal carry. Route optimization for maximum feels with minimum pain."

Jo smiled back at Ian. Ridiculousness up to eleven. But being serious, the material would be extremely obscure. There was no chance in hell for it to become a best-seller.

So, better stick to the music.


	2. Chapter 2 - Twilight Witchcraft

Story takes place in Summer 2014, so in this chapter the legend himself is still alive.  
-ArmageddonClan

...

 **Chapter 2 - Twilight Witchcraft  
**

"Light bringer – shine your light on me!  
Ooh, yeah. Who you gonna call?"

Ian almost fumbled with the riff as he listened to Kim's lyrics more intently for the first time. He barely avoided breaking in a laugh. The lyrics were clearly supposed to be theological in nature, yet "who you gonna call" hinted at something completely else.

Kim was clearly living up the bassist / vocalist role to the maximum, dancing with the bass guitar while singing with her head tilted up to reach the microphone she had deliberately adjusted high, resembling how Lemmy Kilminster sang.

It was easy to tell she would be popular with the guys in the audience. Particularly when she would finish growing the long hair back.

That was the chorus, and Jo's solo would be next. She stomped the phaser pedal in, and the sustained solo notes appeared to rotate around the room. Ian thought it would never be acceptable in thrash, where all solo notes had to be crystal-clear, maybe just some delay or reverb allowed.

Ian followed with his own solo, which was just basic, faster pentatonic madness as the song changed key three semitones up.

The solo section ended and now Ian and Jo just headbanged in unison while playing a simple, driving interlude riff. That too would be acceptable in doom.

The breakdown / spoken word part would be next. The guitars quieted down and Erik just kept a simple kick drum + hi-hat beat going.

Kim spoke in as low and sinister voice as she managed.

"The dawnbearer, the Morning Star called Venus. Grant me thy wisdom and knowledge, for I hunger to know it. Guide my spirit, for I wish to come to know thee. Ooooooo -"

The music began to build up intensity, and Kim's voice started to rise, until it was a high shriek. This almost resembled something Iron Maiden or Judas Priest would do on their early records.

Ian could only think, Hell yeah. This too, was acceptable. Practically they could step across the classic genres – rock, heavy, doom – and draw influences however they wanted.

"Lucifer!" Kim shouted out loud.

This signaled the concluding jam / cacophony section of the song. It had not been planned out maximally. Jo kicked the phaser effect in again, and played chords which almost made the guitar sound resemble an organ more.

Finally the song slowed down and ended in feedback. Kim wailed in falsetto for one last time.

...

It actually works out, Kim thought. They were headed back to the cabin in Erik's truck now.

Naturally, there were arrangements to be made. It would be a ridiculously long distance to drive to each rehearsal.

Kim thought of her short-lived trio doom band, Necrotic Dust. This would be the way to continue its legacy. Abigail and Shanae had died horribly in the dimensional incident, and in a way she would be paying tribute to them.

Kim understood there was just a slight problem.

For the "Light Bringer" song, she had just googled for "prayer to Lucifer" and copied the lyrics from the first result she got. In other words, she did not really know what the hell she was doing. In Necrotic Dust, Abigail had managed all the lyric-writing. Or had Viktor been alive, he could easily have written lyrics like that without even thinking, from his own true perspective.

But if not this, what then?

On the driver seat, Erik had also been rather quiet. Even though the rehearsal had been a success. In addition to playing their new songs a few times, they had played covers. Kim especially liked Reverend Bizarre's "Doom over the World." It had a simple, driving rhythm, but the highlight was really the lyrics. An awesome vision of coming war and destruction, visited on the song's narrator by a horrible-looking angel. Kim could imagine her skull and bones showing through, or something.

If she only could write lyrics like that!

"What did you think?" Kim asked Erik.

The voice was low, as usual. "It went fine. I mean, I could complain of not being able to put my hi-hat hand to the 200 BPM test. But there are already thousands of bands doing that, and I'm not getting any younger. And you're doing great as the frontwoman."

"Thanks."

Fuck. It was good to hear the compliment, but it also felt like being locked in to a role Kim necessarily did not consider her own. But did she have a real right to complain? Maybe she just needed to suck it up and start writing lyrics that were her own, that actually meant something.

She also could not help thinking if Erik was actually, completely honest. Or if it was something bothering him too, and he just did not want to tell, as this had been Kim's idea.

Fuck indeed. It was tough.

...

"I'd call that a tie. If we write riffs based on food incidents, and Kim copies Ghostbusters," Ian laughed.

He, Jo and Russ were sitting in the kitchen of the Alder residence, beers at hand. It was already late in the evening, and with the rehearsal over, and Erik and Kim on their way back, the atmosphere was pleasantly relaxed.

"The first one?" Russ asked. "It's the good one. The second is shit."

"The sequel has one good thing. The bad guy calls himself the Scourge of Carpathia. That could be a band," Jo said.

Ian started a blastbeat against the table, imagining the music. True Carpathian black metal.

Just for fun, Jo took out her cell phone and searched for "Scourge of Carpathia" on Metal Archives. It returned 0 hits. So the name was still free. Of course, a band would actually have to be from the region for that to make sense, so they could not take the name anyway. Unless they would relocate to where Vlad the Forger lived and recruit him.

Then she performed another search on Metal Archives. It was possibly never a good idea to search for yourself.

But what the hell. Done what's done. Being drunk, she could live with whatever she saw.

 _Real / full name: Jo Alder Place of origin: United States_

 _Age: 25 (born Sep 6, 1988) Gender: Female_

 _Active bands:_

 _AGENT (2014-)_

 _2014 Demo I Guitars_

Metal Archives apparently thought AGENT was still active, and no-one had corrected. Well, it was in sort of a limbo. The Past bands section predictably listed Cyberpriest. It was just a bit odd to see that someone had entered her birth date. As far as she could think of, very few people in the band circles even knew it. René certainly had known, but he no longer lived.

Just then her cell phone beeped, and she was a bit startled.

Then she realized it had no connection to the Metal Archives searches. But the coincidence was still odd. She had to read the message twice before it made sense.

"I got a message from that prog band. Black Flame of Sin. They say they didn't get any applicants that were more promising than me. And they're asking if I would want to reconsider."

As Jo thought of it more, it felt a little like the ground opening up below her, and her head spinning. Particularly with the effect of beer added.

She could not honestly be sure what she would answer.


	3. Chapter 3 - Warrior Soul

**Chapter** **3** **–** **Warrior Soul**

Past midnight, Erik stopped the truck in front of the cabin. He took the cymbal bags, while Kim would take the snare and the case for the double pedal. In the end those had not even been needed, Erik could just have used the equipment at the studio. But he had thought to obey the guest drummer etiquette.

The drive back had been tiresome enough, and Erik thought he could just fall to the bed. But his mind was restless. It had just been talk before, and jamming with Kim. While this was the full deal. Well, the two sessions had been good enough, considering they had only been the very first.

But now, despite his words to Kim, he could not help comparing it to AGENT. Or hell, even Cyberpriest.

He had already mostly forgiven Ian and Jo for their methods of inspiration. After all he should not have even heard it in the first place. If that was what it took, then fine.

But now he could not shake the idea, nagging at the back of his mind, that how would those two possibly be content playing these comparatively easy riffs? After all the ultra-violent thrash. If Erik was honest with himself – completely honest – then he also questioned his own sustained motivation. If he thought far enough of the road ahead.

But fuck. He could never betray Kim in that manner. He could well imagine the argument that would follow. Kim would be sure to feel left out.

Fuck again. It was in fact a very volatile band configuration. Much worse than Cyberpriest had ever been. Any problems in the band would immediately reflect into the rest of their life. This was something they had not properly considered in the absinthe night's aftermath. It had just practically been that yeah, Kim and Jo can get along, so everything is good.

Wearily, Erik unlocked the cabin door.

…

They had retreated to Jo's bedroom to discuss the matter with Black Flame of Sin. Ian remembered how it had initially come up exactly here. And the results had been something that would definitely warrant being included in their book – if it ever was to materialize in reality.

Now the atmosphere was much more serious. Ian thought Jo actually wanted to give it a shot, but she was reluctant.

"I don't think there's a problem. If they accept you in being two bands at the same time, then it's fine to me. You get to compare. Or get some new ideas. And they'll make you work your ass off," he said.

Jo was looking at him with what appeared to be disbelief.

"I – think you're taking this far too well. That's almost not human."

That was something new. To be suspected of not being human. Not that Ian felt offended really. He knew his line of thinking – after everything life-threatening they had survived, this was nothing to get worked up about.

"You'd want me to be jealous, or something? It's just a band. I don't think I can bring myself to be."

Jo looked at the floor for a time, thinking. Then her head snapped to look straight at him, almost abruptly.

"That's the problem. It's like – you're still just drifting through life. Everything is fine for you."

Ian felt something unpleasant rising. The release of adrenaline, the fight or flight response. He could not remember when that had last happened with Jo. Had they even exactly fought, for a long time? That it would be about his lack of opinions, he could not have predicted.

"That's not true," Ian replied. "I wouldn't be fine – or what the hell. Even if you'd be happier playing with those guys only, then the doom band could be a trio. It could actually be healthier."

Jo's disbelief appeared to deepen, and her voice took on aggression.

"Are you saying, that it's unhealthy if we play in the same band?"

Fuck. This was indeed going into a bad direction. It was somewhat atypical of Jo at all. Ian tried to keep his head calm. She had probably agonized over the rehearsal far more than he had, and that was still weighing on her.

"No! But then you could get a break. Otherwise being in the band never stops, right?"

Jo exhaled. It was almost like she deflated visibly a little.

"I was thinking back to René – it was the same situation, being together and also bandmates. But this is actually just the opposite, he was dead-set to have me stay in the band, no matter what."

That was understandable too. Old wounds. Ian could almost sigh in relief, if this would not escalate further. At least for now. I'm just dead-set to be with you, Ian thought, but did not say it aloud.

"And … sorry. It was not really right for me to –"

Jo's voice trailed off, but Ian guessed what she was referring to. In Manowar's words, him still appearing a bit shell-shocked. He grinned back at her a little.

"It's OK. I try to get … a bit more of a grip. I could start again this habit, checking my maximum picking speed in front of the mirror every day. Maybe it helps."

Back from the time when Ian was working as a junior sysadmin. And just at the moment it was possibly not a good joke. Ian could see the discomfort on Jo's face.

"Fuck," she got out, not quite like crying but not so far from that either.

She seemed to be taking her own words far more seriously than necessary. Ian could even have reminded her of the occasions her support or pushing him on had been absolutely vital during their adventures. But since most of it involved some rather painful memories, he thought to skip it for now.

"This too is going into the book, right?" Jo asked finally. She was smiling at him a little now. That was better.

"You bet it's going. And about the prog band, I think you should try it. Again. Otherwise it's going to bother you. If it's intolerable shit, then you just march out again."

"Thanks. I'll do that. Or – should I ask Erik and Kim?"

Strictly speaking this was not something they had ever discussed, the four of them. Ian could only remember that in Cyberpriest having side projects was considered a strict no-no.

"Maybe better not confuse them. As it's not a sure thing yet."

"Right."


	4. Chapter 4 - Infinite Dreams (Pt 1)

A shout-out to omen mortis! Physics appear to work extremely similarly in Agony Angst & Extacy's absinthe ritual chapter, and the ending of Uncharted 2.  
\- ArmageddonClan

...

 **Chapter 4 – Infinite Dreams (Pt. 1)  
**

Ian was sure he could not get sleep yet, so he had kissed Jo goodnight and headed back into the kitchen, with the laptop. It was empty; Russ was also in dreamland by now.

Ian switched on just a small lamp near the sink and booted the machine.

He still thought back to Jo's words, and actually, thought she was right. He needed to kick himself in the ass. If she would be searching for better inspiration from the prog-metal band, then he could do his own searching. Musically or otherwise.

The book idea was honestly ridiculous. But alluring in some sick way. So Ian started up the word processor with a blank document.

For inspiration, he put some Exodus playing on the background from YouTube, a live video.

Ian could not understand how energetic the vocalist Paul Baloff had been in the early days. And the lyrics were totally off the charts, describing a concert and mosh pit turning into an actual massacre. Would actually not be very correct nowadays.

Ian considered what he could write down now.

If he was honest, he did not really feel like writing the endearing fool chapter now. It would have to wait for a little happier state of mind.

But the bridal carry chapter would be basically just science. No especial state of mind needed.

As the text started to take form, Ian laughed to himself silently. He did not even know what it was. Like pure distilled – idiocy? There was a truth to it of course, but why write this at all? At intervals he had to google some high school-level physics to make sure he was not making too serious mistakes.

...

 _Minimum distance bridal carry. Route optimization for maximum feels with minimum pain_

 _If we talk about adult humans, they are awkwardly-shaped and heavy objects. So the best bridal carry is always the one not performed at all._

 _But if you insist, then we must start with some physics. We are concerned with distance (both forward and vertical travel) and mass. And indirectly, time._

 _The simple rule is, the more there is any of them, the more there will be hurt. This whole book is about minimizing mental and physical pain in every situation._

 _Let's start with the science. When lifting someone, we're working against gravity, so_

 _F = m * g_

 _Where F is force, m is mass and g is the Earth's gravity. Unless you're on a space station or something, you're stuck with the gravity you've got. And likely, the same for mass._

 _Side note: of course you can hit the gym and then producing any F might not be a problem. But this book is not about that! It's all about practical low-effort solutions instead._

 _Now that we've got that, we can expand this to the amount of energy (or work) expended_

 _W = m * g * h_

 _Where the h is the height or the amount of vertical travel against gravity._

 _Unlike the rest, that is actually in your control, so keep it as small as possible!_

 _When you've got the bridal carry going, you would be thinking that there is no work against gravity being done any more, as there is no vertical motion, unless you're going up stairs, which is unsafe and extremely discouraged! But this is where high school physics lies to you, because it doesn't take into account the chemical energy you are burning to maintain the carry._

 _From there we come to the final equation, which is_

 _time = pain_

 _That is also in your control, and it's where the route (forward distance) optimization pays off._

" _Damn it, we gotta move faster" Nathan Drake once said. You are (probably) not Nathan Drake, so don't necessarily count on picking up speed. Except perhaps if you're intoxicated just right._

 _Also, note it's the strain without pause that hurts. That's why the riffs in Master of Puppets are so hard to play with all downpicking, because there are hardly any pauses. This is just the same thing._

 _..._

Ian was not sure if the downpicking thing was already going too off-topic. Possibly. But suddenly he was alerted by a sound. Russ was entering the kitchen to drink some water.

"You're up late. Writing new lyrics?" Russ asked.

"Not exactly."

Ian could not get even those words out without laughing, and that prompted Russ to examine the laptop screen closer.

"Jo's idea initially. We write a self-help book. Or possibly not."

Ian expected Russ to burst into laughing any moment. But he stayed surprisingly matter-of-fact.

"Solid advice. Wish I'd have known. And just as applicable for roadies."

Then Russ left the kitchen, headed back to bed.

…

Jo thought she had drifted off at some point, but was back awake now. Her thoughts spun around in restless circles, and she knew she was just blowing things out of proportion. The doom band's future. Possibly trying it out in Black Flame of Sin again. Or even her words to Ian.

But it was hard to stop.

From the empty space next to her she knew Ian was still in the kitchen, apparently writing?

She almost wanted to go get him, but it would have been somewhat ridiculous. Particularly after he had asked at least twice if everything was OK, and she had said yes.

Yes, it was ridiculous. He was only maybe twenty feet away from her.

Jo started thinking of turning her inner turmoil into a new riff, or chord progression. But that especially was not going to help her get sleep any sooner.

But that was an idea! Then she could credibly go there to write it down on the laptop.

Fuck. Ian would likely guess it as an excuse. But that was the semi-intention anyway. She just needed to compose it in her head first.


	5. Chapter 5 - Infinite Dreams (Pt 2)

**Chapter** **5** **– Infinite Dreams (Pt.** **2** **)**

 _On pain mitigation._

 _If you are tired enough, you may not simply feel the pain. Beware that you are likely more accident-prone in this condition. Adrenaline works similarly, but without that disadvantage._

 _Note: do NOT use any advice contained here for any "ticking time bomb" scenarios! This is supposed to be about cuddly peacetime stuff. The authors refuse to be held responsible otherwise._

 _Finally, let's talk about the mental or emotional aspect. Why are you doing this? Obviously only you know the whole answer. Here, we like to think in scientific terms again. You are bringing someone else to your coordinate space, or frame of reference. Like you could be anywhere in the world, and that someone would still be with you. That's pretty deep shit, right?_

…

If Ian was honest, he was quite proud of that coordinate space stuff. He could not have written it without the short stint at Innovativi3D. And it could perhaps be followed with something about the illusion of free will.

But just then he heard soft footsteps approaching.

Sure enough, it was Jo. There was a weary smile on her face that Ian could only think of as disarming.

"There's a riff playing in my head. Can I use that to type it down?"

"Of course," Ian answered even without thinking.

Only then he realized that Jo would inevitably see the text, and trying to hide it at this point would be even more suspicious. Ian thought of the text as a dramatization, but some parts could be taken a bit personally.

But if they would work on it further, she would come to see all of it anyway. So better take the hit right now. Ian hit Ctrl+S to make sure the text would be saved.

"You were writing … for the book?" Jo asked, sounding absent.

"Yeah."

To Ian's surprise Jo just opened Notepad right away, holding down the dash key to create rows of tablature. But she was just standing there, leaning down on the kitchen table. It did not feel right. Ian even felt a bit guilty of writing long into the night.

"You could sit down here too."

…

The thrash beat was relentless. Erik was giving his everything, navigating the song's complex time signatures, as put together by the Kommandant, René. Curiously Erik could not even tell if there was anyone else in the room besides them, even though there certainly was a guitar playing. But suddenly René gave a forceful hand sign for stopping, and all sound died down.

What had went wrong? Erik thought it was already perfect.

"You're getting the accents all wrong, stupid," René spat angrily.

And Erik felt his anger rise as well. The verbal abuse was not justified, at least when he was trying his best. He would respond in kind.

"How can I get them right if you can't tell where exactly they're supposed to be! Asshole. No wonder you couldn't keep her."

That was low. Erik regretted the words instantly. If Jo was in here, she would want to quit. Or at least not talk to him for a long time.

René's expression darkened, and he rushed at Erik through the drum kit. But it slowed the bassist / vocalist down enough for Erik to be prepared. He swung a hard right into René' face, and he fell on the cymbals, making a terrible racket, and finally on the floor.

Fuck, Erik thought, circling over to see how bad René had been hurt.

And then the insanity deepened. It was not even René, but Kim that Erik had managed to hit. The bass guitar was the same, but the hair was longer and blond instead. Blood ran in a wide stream from Kim's broken nose to the carpet, creating a stain.

Erik woke up screaming.

"What the hell?" Kim mumbled from next to him. "Bad dream?"

She possibly had no idea how glad he was to be back in reality, where none of that had happened. But the nightmare had reaffirmed Erik of the fact he knew well, that deep down violence was very much a part of him.

"Yeah. One hell of."

Even in the lack of lighting, Erik could see the concern on Kim's face. Her hand felt a bit cold against his shoulder. But Erik appreciated the gesture. Kim rarely needed to take care of him in any manner.

"What was it about?" she asked.

"Old band stuff. And violence. Sorry to wake you up."

Violence was something she was rather familiar with too. Erik just hoped that kind of scenario would never, ever play out in reality. Kim murmured something indistinct, trying to fall back asleep.

…

Jo thought she should get up to write riffs down in the middle of the night more often. Though she was not sure if this one was copied from somewhere? Or otherwise familiar in a strange way. The chords were Am - Em - F - G - F - Dm - E.

She had also seen the text Ian had been writing, she had just not said anything. It was exactly what she could have expected.

The coordinate space part was even kind of much to think of. Scientific, but still like pure marshmallow. Jo felt like falling into something soft, at least mentally.

She also thought Ian was not even following his own advice. They were taking a detour through the living room.

From a direction Jo was not absolutely certain, possibly near the ceiling, Jo thought she saw a faint, short blue flash. She looked again, and it was no longer there. Perhaps something to do with the cable TV. Or the air conditioning. She would ask Russ about it tomorrow, if she remembered.


	6. Chapter 6 - Iron Throne

****Chapter 6 - Iron Throne  
****

Kim felt herself before an abyss. Possibly, soon she would be expected to come up with more lyrics. Of course she could move more into the classic Black Sabbath-like direction, away from the occultism / satanism she needed to fake, but that would also be mostly cliches she thought to have been handled a thousand times before.

It was slightly past midday, and Kim had already opened the first beer. It was unusual for her. Perhaps the alcohol would help to tolerate the anxiety. She knew that if this was to become a sustained habit, it would be unhealthy. Particularly when at some point she would need to start looking for a job as well.

Erik appeared to be in low spirits as well. "Going outside to chop some wood," he grunted. It was potentially the nightmare still bothering him.

Kim thought back to the night. She remembered being a bit crude. She would perhaps have liked to be more supportive or something, but even at this point, it was not really like her. It was still hard to let her thoughts or feelings too much to the forefront.

…

"They say they have the next rehearsal today. And that I could show up," Jo said, as they sat in the kitchen. It was past midday now.

"More songs to learn?" Ian asked.

"They have their back catalog of their own songs. It's going to be a huge pile to learn. But not more for today. It's mostly about getting to know the band members properly."

"Right. And I had an idea. I could head back to Erik's place. To talk about the musical direction a little. If I think about it – I feel like it'd be better to go in an old school heavy / doom direction. Because Kim can almost be like an air raid siren if she wants. The occult rock shit is quite crowded."

"That could work," Jo mused. "It's true it has to be narrowed down. We cannot be everything."

Ian thought they had settled in a more normal mode of operation again. Even if the night had been legendary in its own way. It was scary to think if the book would actually take a life of its own. If it would actually be finished and published. What would that do to their metal credibility?

"What if I take the Toyota?"

"Fine. I can borrow the truck," Jo answered.

Therefore, the plan appeared settled. Ian remembered the last time he had left on his own with the Toyota. The adventure had escalated from there to horrible proportions. He really did not want to think about it much. But this time there was no way it would go those lengths.

…

Jo was in the studio, unleashing hyperspeed playing from the red ESP. There were still three hours to meeting Black Flame of Sin, and she was going over the songs she had learned the last time. Now she thought to learn properly the parts she had cheated through the last time.

She thought this was the proper way to play. Using as much of your mental and physical capability as possible would keep you from stagnating. Music was supposed to keep you on your toes.

Ian was well on his way to now, to meet Erik and Kim again.

And that was fine. It was great to have a little break once in a while. Could it work that way, that Ian would be the sole guitarist in the doom band, while she would push the boundaries in Black Flame of Sin?

Jo could see how it would fit their personalities. At the end of the day, she could relate her tales of dictatorial vying for absolute control, for the symbolic iron throne, accompanied with breakneck-speed playing in unconventional time signatures, and Ian could tell of how they had composed a ten-minute song consisting of exactly one riff.

Jo thought of her own equation. It was borrowed from certain axe heroes from the North. To tell the truth, she knew exactly also when just the opposite would be needed, but still it was just too good to leave unused.

Speed = emotion

…

The road opened up before Ian, a long straight. He was driving the Toyota slightly over the speed limit. For once driving alone felt good. He had the Warlock guitar and a 50W combo amp borrowed from the studio in the trunk, in case they would already jam something.

Ian's thoughts drifted back to the book.

There was now possibly the skeleton of one chapter ready, so he began to think what the structure of the whole thing could be. He envisioned it split in two sections. The second section would be slightly more extreme, and it could be left out if the material would be too disturbing.

 _PART ONE – THE CUTE STUFF_

 _1\. Communication for fluff and profit_

 _2\. Tactical arguments or how to lose in the right way_

 _3\. How to make an endearing fool of yourself_

 _4\. Home appliances and shit AKA distress with the vacuum cleaner bag_

 _5\. How to be in the same band and not lose your mind or break up  
_

 _6\. Minimum distance bridal carry_

 _7\. Finances and shit_

 _PART TWO – THE POTENTIALLY NOT SO CUTE STUFF_

 _8\. Practical battle couple tactics with firearms and close combat_

 _9\. Offensive and defensive vehicle tactics_

 _10\. Infiltrating enemy strongholds or hostile planets_

 _11\. Weird science, amnesia, and recovery from it_

 _12\. Other-dimensional battle couple tactics and the unexplainable  
_

…

Jo arrived at Black Flame of Sin's rehearsal space in the town center. This was the second entrance to the dragon's den. She thought to set herself a strict principle. Anything intolerable, and she would walk away. It would not be worth it. Whole another possibility would be to start forming her own elite line-up from zero. She had never done that before, but could imagine the amount of work required.

She climbed the stairs to the second floor, with the guitar case and effect pedal case at hand. Now she knew also to have proper monitor headphones with her, borrowed from the studio.

Jo knocked the door, thirty seconds early.

The door opened from the inside.


	7. Chapter 7 - All Blackened Sky

****Chapter 7 –**** ** **All Blackened Sky****

The aggression was only mounting more. Kim felt it within herself, and in the air within the cabin. She thought it would blow up at some point. She had checked the cell phone; apparently Ian was headed their way.

Erik had responded with a laconic "Fine." reply.

It was easy now when they could converse with text only. So that their voices would not reveal the boiling anger. Kim was actually afraid what would transpire once Ian would arrive. Or if something might even happen before that.

Nothing was certain at this point. Except that mentally, she was being driven against the wall. In theory there would be an easy way out, to just say "I'm done," when it came to the doom band, but what then?

…

The rehearsal space opened up before Jo just like the last time. The musicians were also mostly the same as before, just the vocalist – Anthony – was dressed in a more subdued manner than before. Instead of the ruffled white shirt, it was a plain purple shirt instead, hanging over his leather pants.

"Let's do the round of introductions properly this time," Anthony said.

It turned out the drummer was Trey. The bassist was Scott. And the keyboardist was Kevin.

Jo connected her effect pedal and headphones to the mixer. She had adjusted the sound to be much stronger than last time. It was a simulation of a Mesa Dual Rectifier, which she thought the pedal to simulate the best.

"Should we play Rising Force again, just to warm up?" Kevin asked.

Jo thought Kevin wanted to show off his Jens Johansson imitation skills. Well, this time she would also be ready. She had set up a rather perfect middle-heavy solo sound with delay that was adjusted just right to add thickness to the sound, while still keeping clarity.

They played the song with extra tempo. And Jo did not really miss a note. The part before the solos could now definitely be played only with triplets instead of sixteenth notes.

…

With the light of the day just beginning to fade and turn into the evening, Ian arrived at the town of Rocks Falls. By now the route to the cabin had already burned itself to his mind. He turned to the narrow forest road and had to slow down just a little.

The radio was on, and Ian had tried to find the legendary stations he had found on the last times. The random metal DJ, who had talked of ultra-commercial shit that would empty the listeners' souls. Ian had met him again surprisingly many times.

But now that voice could not be found. Instead there was random hard rock and country, which was not very inspiring.

Was that a bad sign?

Well, soon Ian would reach the cabin, and then what was on the radio would be irrelevant.

…

After playing through the songs from Jo's last audition, they began playing less progressive songs, that everyone would know. Metallica. Iron Maiden. The arrangements were just a bit funny, with keyboards instead of two guitars. After playing through enough songs, Jo and Kevin were starting to build a kind of a musical connection, though in the dual-guitar songs there was a bit of fumbling of who would play the upper part and who the lower.

And of course, Anthony sang like he was a reincarnated god of metal, never missing a high note.

Finally they had played through enough songs. At this point only the truly bad "standards" like Paranoid or For Whom The Bell Tolls would remain.

They all sat down.

"So, Jo, do you want to be in?" Anthony asked.

Jo was still not yet a hundred percent sure. But everything pointed to "yes" at this point. She was just a bit scared of the workload of learning the band's own, very much progressive material. But Jo thought of it almost like infiltrating enemy territory, learning what to do and what not to do, to aid the true line-up with Ian, Erik and Kim. Jo still wanted to think that it would rather be the four of them. All who had fought and bled.

If she would, out of some reason, need to quit Black Flame of Sin fast, the negative reputation would circulate, but so what?

"I'm in," Jo said.

…

Ian arrived to a somewhat odd scene in the cabin. Erik opened the door, a bottle of beer in his hand, but his mouth was curled downward, almost in hatred.

The initial feeling of the last drinking session had been somewhat reserved too, but this was like entering whole another dimension. Kim was further back in the cabin, also drinking.

What had Ian stuck his head into? Was this how Erik and Kim lived from day to day? Compared to last time, the cabin looked much more cramped with the drum kit and the bass and PA equipment inside. Of course that was at least good, that there was gear for venting the aggression.

No words at all were exchanged for the first minute.

Ian thought all his interpersonal skills could possibly be worth nothing at this point. What could he say to them? He had come to discuss the doom band's musical direction, but would he now be needed to be some kind of therapist instead?

Honestly, he hated that idea.

"Fucking doom," Erik said at last.

"Yeah," Ian replied, not meaning anything.

They sat down at the wooden table. Ian could well remember the time here, back when he had been an active Agent. Then it had been just the two, when Ian had come to recruit Erik to become an Agent. Mostly, to get Jo back from enemy hands. It had been an extremely precarious situation, but in the end absinthe and Ian's humility had won the day. And they had proceeded to kick ass in every way imaginable.

But now, after all the battles were over, and everything should in theory be fine –

What the hell had happened since the rehearsal?

Kim took a deep drink from the bottle, and slammed it on the table with force. But yet she did not say anything.

"So, the direction," Erik growled finally. "You have some ideas you want to discuss?"

Ian had thought of the classic-heavy-doom direction. But when Erik and Kim were in such state, it felt just wrong. Like he had no right to dictate to them.

Fuck. It was a failure.

The only thing Ian could think of, was misdirection, delaying, and observation.

"I could use a beer first."

"Fine," Erik grunted. "There's more in the fridge."


	8. Chapter 8 - Dissident Aggressor

****Chapter 8 –**** ** **Dissident Aggressor****

Jo called Russ to ask if he could come fetch the truck back home at some point. As the night would now turn to drinking in celebration of her joining. The atmosphere was very relaxed by this point. Jo understood that in her initial audition, the band had been showing their most rigid and professional side, to potentially scare her off. But now that it had been settled that she had skill and motivation, they could reveal themselves to be actual humans.

If Jo thought way back – and the memory was just a bit hazy – it was a little like Ian's audition to Cyberpriest.

But now it was time to have fun.

They walked through the town streets on this pleasantly warm summer evening, headed for the Old Oak Barrel bar. It would have a traditional Irish atmosphere, and was a favorite of the band.

Soon, they had drinks at hand. Jo started with a large pint of lager.

…

Ian tried to drink the beer as slowly as he could, waiting for Erik or Kim to reveal something.

Finally it turned out that he would have to speak first, or the whole night would be just silence.

He cleared his throat. Aided by the beer, his voice was just a little slurred, which added to believability.

"So. Doom metal can take so many directions. And we have to narrow it down in some manner. My suggestion is to keep in more to heavy or classic doom direction. Like the spot in "Light Bringer" where it starts to pick up intensity, and even the riff before that. But it could be even more like just classic heavy metal."

Ian was not even completely sure where he was going. He could stumble over his own points and it could end up a total failure.

"Hm. Hard to distinguish yourself doing that. And if we compare to Black Sabbath, that's a pretty high bar," Erik growled.

Ian knew that. Then he just opened up.

"Fuck. Long ago we were on that SCEPTRE-organized festival. And there was something that stuck to my mind. I think the band was called ChaosWitch. They played NWOBHM-inspired stuff. It was almost hauntingly beautiful. Like constantly going from one minor key to another. And I thought that if we'd live through that shit I'd like to play something like that. Of course in the context of doom, it'd have to be just a little slower. Or a lot, actually."

But yet it seemed like he was just talking to a wall. It was severely draining his energy. Fuck. Ian had clearly stumbled on something being not right. The two songs and the first rehearsals must have been a fluke. Something in the four-member chemistry was just chafing severely.

Well, Ian thought to himself. It was good that it had been confirmed sooner than later. If this line-up was going down the drain so soon from the start.

At least Jo would have the prog metal band.

…

Jo knew the beer was going into her head perhaps more than she had anticipated. She was talking in an animated way, possibly going into classified battle specifics already. The keyboardist Kevin talking about the darknet had brought on this direction.

"We met this hacker, who is pretty in deep in that stuff. There was a distributed AI running rampant, running illegal bets and things like that," Jo explained.

She remembered approaching the AI's fortress, but then there was a curious blank in her memory. The hacker, Eve, had explained a gas trap had went off, and Jo and Ian both had lost their consciousness inside the AI server room itself.

The whole discussion had started in a roundabout way from whether Jo was reserved or not. And she had started to talk about Ian a bit.

"That sounds like proper hero stuff," Anthony remarked. "Fuck. I just write lyrics about stuff like that. I suppose I could be envious."

Kevin submerged in his cell phone.

"There's this site called Archive of Our Own, or AO3. Where it's permitted to submit stories about real-life persons. Like band members. Some of it's superhero stuff. And some of it is much more explicit. And –"

Kevin tapped his phone a little more.

"Holy shit. Jo, it appears you're famous there."

Jo felt almost like her heart would stop.

…

The night had progressed at Erik's cabin. Ian had kept his drinking to minimum. Erik and Kim, less so. The total amount of words spoken was still extremely low.

"Hey Ian. We should go to the bar. Maybe there's better true doom atmosphere there," Erik said.

A minute or two later, and Ian found himself behind the wheel of the Toyota. He perhaps was just under the limit for DUI. Or not. He could not be exactly sure. But taking a cab would have been much slower.

The Toyota started up without protest, and they were under way.

…

Jo felt like sinking into somewhere very deep, as she started browsing AO3 with her own phone. Who the hell had written this shit? There were stories about Cyberpriest, about AGENT, meeting very random people and doing very random stuff. The vast majority of it was something Jo did not want to dwell on at all.

The worst part was when the stories possibly blended reality with fiction to some degree.

For example, the guitar models and colors matched. That was quite a large coincidence. And … the cars.

The stories often included driving a red Toyota, or a truck like Russ's.

Jo felt herself getting angry. And somewhere back there in her head, frightened too.

Indeed. Who the hell had written this shit?


	9. Chapter 9 - Raining Blood

****Chapter 9 – Raining Blood****

Jimmy's Bar and Grill on the Rocks Falls main street was nothing to write home about. A mixture of hard rock and blues drifted from the speakers. There were perhaps fifteen locals, some conversation going on. Nothing too bothersome or loud. A group of five was playing pool at the back, drinks at hand.

Erik and Kim got their beers quickly. Meanwhile Ian thought that he would not drink. Or only water. He would be needed to drive back to the cabin.

Ian was quite sure they would not find any especial inspiration here either.

"Look at these shitheads," Kim suddenly opened up.

"You think you're any better?" Erik spat back.

Ian thought he was possibly witnessing a train wreck in slow motion. This was already starting much worse than the little argument between him and Jo. Erik would be offended at Kim criticizing the locals, considering he had lived here for long.

But what the hell could Ian do to stop it?

Not even responding, Kim got up from her seat, headed for the pool table and the group. Four men, one woman. It looked like the woman was most concentrated on the game, she was clearing the table ball after ball and possibly going to take an easy victory.

Predicting danger, Ian got up, followed by Erik.

"Hey assholes. I used to beat up and taser guys like you for breakfast," Kim addressed the group.

They all laughed, even the woman. So far they were taking it well. But Ian thought it could turn worse in an instant.

Kim was even closer now. Indeed. If the players would not be provoked by words alone, she would possibly just get physical first. For some reason she was dead-set to fight. Maybe the whole day of drinking had been building up rage inside her mind.

In a flash, Ian made a connection in his mind. Was Kim somehow uncomfortable after all in her role, even though it was what she had wanted in the first place?

But now there were more critical things to consider. Kim picked up speed, but Ian managed to reach her, and grabbed her arm.

"Kim! What the fuck you're doing?" he shouted.

Kim spun around, in a combat stance. Fists ready. And Ian retreated a step, his hands held up.

"Hey. Take it easy. Maybe it's best we get back to the cabin and sort this out."

Erik was at them now, too. And Ian thought his face was completely unreadable. Anything could happen. Ian thought everything hung in balance.

…

By now Jo was sure that whatever it was, it went much deeper than just stories published on AO3. In a comment section to one of the stories, there was a short video posted.

And she wanted to scream to the forces above or below when she understood what it was. It was from Antisound Studio, her and Ian jamming doom metal riffs.

The studio, and possibly the house too, were bugged.

She recalled the blinking blue light she had seen at night, and forgotten to tell about to Russ. She was nearly sure it was related. Maybe a cell phone or miniature computer hidden in an air vent that sent the recorded material.

By now Black Flame of Sin understood perfectly that the night of celebration would be cut short. They all were taking it seriously, and Kevin was concentrated on his cell phone again.

"Yeah. This is nasty. Like I guessed, there's more of this stuff on the darknet. Somebody's obviously taking this way too far. And it's of course not going to make you feel good, but for what it's worth, they think of it as some kind of superhero reality TV."

Jo struggled to concentrate, despite her head feeling like spinning again. She could think of a few things now.

Russ obviously. He might not be safe. Better to get him out of the house. It would need to be examined with a fine comb. Or an EM frequency analyzer. As well as the vehicles.

And then she would somehow have to take on these fuckers. Even if she had no idea how. Maybe she needed to contact the hacker. Eve.

But Jo had never been in direct contact, after the adventure. Ian would be needed.

…

It was like snapping awake suddenly. Kim tried to make sense of what had just happened. Only the outcome was clear. Ian was lying on the wooden floor of the bar, his nose bloodied. And as the understanding came in, Kim felt like shit, just as suddenly. What had they done?

Erik had been agitated by Ian grabbing her arm. Ian already had his hands up, but then Erik had shoved him a bit. And Ian's combat instincts had kicked in. He had taken a swing at Erik and missed.

But Erik had not missed.

The good thing was that just for the instant, the pool table guys were minding the situation only halfway. Observing. They had been out of the physical altercation.

And Kim knew with exact clarity what they needed to do. Get Ian out of there and patch him up, before the cops would arrive.

"Erik! For fuck's sake. We have to grab him and take off!"

"We're both drunk," Erik grunted.

"I'll take the hit. I have no license anyway," Kim snapped.

It could not get much worse than this. Assault and battery. Driving without license. Driving under the influence.

Fuck. Kim could see herself or Erik staying behind bars for long. So better just get going. They would get arrested, or then not.

Erik got his initiative back at last, and grabbed Ian's legs. Kim took hold of him from under the armpits, and then they were hauling him out of the bar. The whole bar had noticed them by now, and the incoherent noise was rising.

The heavyset, black-clad bouncer was in their way, shouting something just as incoherent, but Kim just pushed with her back against his belly, screaming "Fuck off!" in his face. In the end he had to relent, and then they were past him on the parking lot, headed for the Toyota.

Kim and Erik put Ian down momentarily so that she could fish the car keys from his pocket.

Kim fumbled with the key, until she got the driver door open. She unlocked the rest of the doors and they got Ian on the back seat. For a moment Kim was not even sure if he was alive at this point. But after waiting just a second, she observed his chest to be rising and falling in rhythm.

Therefore, key into ignition, and soon the engine was on. Kim put the car in gear. The clutch slipped and the Toyota burned rubber for a moment. Kim yanked the wheel hard left to avoid the row of cars closest to her.

Then another hard turn right and they were out of the parking lot, going along the main street. Kim knew they would be raising suspicion, in case cops would already be on to them. But she thought the best plan was to head to the cabin as fast as they could manage.


	10. Chapter 10 - Speed and Danger

**Chapter 10 – Speed and Danger**

"Sorry it went this way. This evening should have been happier. I'll let you know when I have sorted things out," Jo said to the Black Flame of Sin members outside the bar.

By now it was already as dark as it was going to get. And Jo shuddered as she thought of it – if the band had not taken contact, and if the keyboardist had not been as interested in the nasty side of the net – then she would still be in the dark. Unaware that the house was compromised.

"No need to say sorry. Being targeted that way, I'm sure I'd freak out completely," Anthony said. "How will you be getting home?"

Fuck. Of course. Russ might have taken the truck already. Typically he did not respond with confirmation, for example a text message, he would just do the task that was requested. And now Jo would have to bother him again. And freak him out in a major way.

Jo checked the cell phone, but there was nothing from him.

"I'll have to check the parking lot. If the truck is still there."

"I could give you a ride," Anthony said. "Not sure if you noticed, but I never drink. Dries up the voice."

Jo thought that was OK. She did not have to be paranoid, of suspecting the band too.

As the rest of the members went their separate ways, Anthony followed, so apparently the vocalist's car would also be on the same parking lot. Mentally, Jo still prepared herself to be combat ready. Just to be prepared for anything.

She decided she could wait until home to contact Ian. Of course she could have called or sent a chaotic wall of text, but she wanted to collect her thoughts a little. Getting Russ out of the house would be priority anyway.

…

Kim thought the adrenaline almost made her sober, as she sped along the main street. Still, she thought her heart was pounding so hard it almost drowned out the Toyota's engine. Just a little more, she thought. Soon the rows of buildings would be left behind.

She glanced to the rear view mirror, and at least so far there were no flashing blue and red lights yet.

"Watch out!" Erik shouted roughly, startling Kim. She pushed hard on the brakes reflexively.

Only now she understood to almost have run over two pedestrians, crossing the street. They were wearing dark clothing, and Kim's condition did not exactly help. They picked up the pace, shouting curses at the Toyota.

Kim felt cold sweat run down her back. Almost an accident. The pedestrians might even have been killed.

She accelerated more cautiously, scanning to the left and right.

On the back seat, Ian made a low pained sound. Maybe he was coming to, or had been awakened by the sudden jolt.

…

Russ had already taken the truck, so Jo was riding in Anthony's white Nissan SUV. It was comfortable and utilitarian, but nothing flashy. The high seats gave a good view of the traffic, just not as well as Russ's truck.

"Compared to you, the most amount of danger in my life is whether I'll be late from work. Or if Alex wants to watch another show than me."

The phrasing Anthony had used was just a little odd, it reminded Jo of –

" _...stressing over whether it starts up the next day. And that would be the most amount of danger in my life."_

That was when Jo had been test-driving the Ford Ka. It felt almost like an eternity ago.

"What do you do?"

"Graphic design. I'm the artist guy, so I get to keep the hair," Anthony laughed.

"And I suppose you'll do your own album covers too?"

"Yeah. If we ever get to that point. But it'll have to be one of knights, dragons, planets, pyramids, hourglasses... Progressive power metal is kind of limiting."

"You could do a glass pyramid with armed guys squatting around it."

Anthony just looked at her like she was a bit weird. And Jo was not even sure how she could be joking about their past enemies during a moment like this. But maybe it relieved the tension a little.

…

Still no pursuit. Once they got to the forest road, Kim pushed down the accelerator a bit more, and the Toyota was almost flying through the curves.

"There's no-one chasing. And Ian doesn't look like he's going to die. You better ease off the pedal, so we don't end up in a ditch," Erik advised.

Kim felt angry, as there was a certain patronizing angle, but when she thought about it, Erik made sense. The car was foreign to her. And she was still drunk.

The car rounded one more corner at speed, then Kim eased off.

But then horror made her heart jump. They were not being chased, but ahead, there were flashing cop car lights. A roadblock? Had they been radioed ahead from the town? It could also be something completely unrelated.

"Fuck. Look ahead. We're going to need Ian at the wheel," Kim said.

"It's not going to look good, if he doesn't stay conscious."

Kim could not tell yet if the lights were coming closer. She killed the engine, exited and swung open the rear door. Ian was still lying there quite motionless. And bloodied. At least he had not fallen off.

"Ian. You need to wake up. We've got cops ahead," Kim snapped and shook him with force.

But Ian did not appear to be regaining consciousness.

Kim thought hard. And she could only think of something inappropriate. Maybe just about justified now. Though it might also prove just as ineffective as shaking.

"Erik? Am I authorized to use any force necessary?" Kim shouted to the front.

"I don't understand. But remember that we need him alive," Erik replied, sounding more drunk now than back in town.

Kim thought the seconds were ticking out. She just confirmed first that Erik was not watching. She could also honestly say that she was not going to enjoy this at all. Just doing whatever was necessary.

She leaned closer, practically being on top of Ian on all fours, and then kissed him on the mouth as hard as she could.

Ian's eyes snapped open. He gasped for air and jerked his upper body up by reflex, headbutting Kim. She backed away, holding her forehead. Despite the sudden pain, just for a moment she was amused. She thought of Jo receiving the same treatment.

Then Kim snapped back to seriousness.

"Ian. That did not happen. But now you need to get to the wheel. There's cops, and only you are sober enough."

"What happened?" Ian asked groggily.

"You and Erik fought a bit."

Apparently satisfied enough with the answer, Ian struggled to get up, first to sitting. And Kim thought it was not going to work out. It was taking too long. But finally, he was sitting, and then he stepped out and to the front, using the car's body for support, until he was in the driver's seat. He stared at Erik with prolonged disbelief, but there appeared to be no apparent hostility.

Then it occurred to Kim that Ian also needed to be cleaned up.

"Ian. Anything we can use to wipe the blood away?"

He seemed to think hard. It was also taking long.

"In the trunk. There's water for filling the radiator. And a handkerchief in the guitar case. You're going to buy me a new one," he said slowly, almost dangerously.


	11. Chapter 11 - Vengeance

**Chapter 11 – Vengeance**

The Nissan stopped by the long driveway that led to the Alder residence.

"Thanks, Anthony. I'll make it from here," Jo said to the vocalist, and got off to a jog toward the house. In her more paranoid mode of thinking, she could imagine masked attackers already hauling Dad away, instead of just watching. Or setting the buildings to fire.

She practically burst inside.

Russ was in the living room, watching TV and relaxing with a glass of tequila. Jo recognized the movie, it was the first Poltergeist, where the father would vomit out a grotesquely swollen tequila worm creature. Russ had never stopped drinking completely, he just said he had it under control now. And Jo thought she believed.

"Dad. We've got to leave. I just learned that the house is being monitored."

Russ looked at her with some disbelief.

"You're back in trouble?" he asked.

"I don't know. We have to look into it. But whoever's doing it, better not give them more ammunition."

"Fuck. Ain't no-one going to keep me out from my own house. Is it like … cameras and microphones?"

"Yeah. And something sending the material to the net. I think it's in the ceiling."

"Let's get to work."

Jo admired Russ's enthusiasm, his willingness to give the enemies the finger. She could not be sure if she had the energy for the same right now. She had imagined them checking in to a motel instead, buying burner phones to stay in touch. But this, if it worked, would of course be much more convenient.

"I used to drink and do house repairs all the time. Or rewiring guitar amps. This is much of the same. Though now we get to just rip away stuff, right?"

"Right."

…

Ian was fighting to stay conscious. He gripped the steering wheel with knuckles white, trying to follow the trick fighter pilots used, tightening all of their body to stay awake when the G-forces were high.

His head hurt like crap. Erik had punched him properly.

Ian was not sure how this could go on from this point forward. How the band could exist at all, if they were prepared to beat the crap out of each other. But to tell the truth, they all were guilty to some degree. Though Ian's memory was hazy, he clearly remembered trying to hit Erik as well.

Now Erik was just avoiding eye contact.

The Toyota crept toward the police lights at almost dead slow speed.

When they were close enough, Ian saw the cruiser was off to the side of the road enough, near an intersection leading to a lit-up house close by, so that they could just pass. There was an officer at the wheel. Still, Ian thought to stop, and rolled down the window. To be honest, he did not like talking to cops at all, but right now just passing them would have felt much more suspicious.

He just hoped that Kim had cleaned him up good enough.

"Excuse me, what is the matter?" Ian asked.

"We got reports of a black bear on the loose. We're interviewing the residents for sightings. You can pass on through, but stay inside with all doors and windows closed," the officer answered. The voice was low and authoritative, but somehow strained. Possibly the day had been long already for them as well.

"Thanks. Will do."

Ian breathed in relief, and accelerated cautiously.

"Good job," Kim said from the back seat. "Can you drive until the cabin?"

Maybe the adrenaline helped a little. The blackness did not threaten to consume him as badly any more. Only now Ian realized that he was weaker than usual also from fighting the food infection. If he had been in a hundred percent condition, he might have kicked Erik's ass instead. Though would anything better have resulted from that either?

"Well, I suppose we don't switch a drunk driver in, while the cops are watching," Ian said.


	12. Chapter 12 - Man of Sorrows

**Chapter 12 – Man Of Sorrows**

The Toyota stopped in front of the cabin at last. Kim went to help Ian out of the driver seat. He had managed well, even if he had been woken up before his body and brain were really ready. Now that the danger of arrest was over, Kim thought of the actually responsible way from this point forward.

"Should we call an ambulance? Tell them that you fell or something?" she asked, while Erik was struggling to get the cabin door open.

Just then Ian's cell phone beeped.

He spent some seconds to read the screen, an arrived message, and then he almost fell against the cabin's door.

"Fuck. God damned fucking shit," he breathed, and Kim honestly could not follow. "No ambulance. I have to get back. Jo tells me some darknet fuckers have the house under watch. Sending live feed to the internet. Fuck!"

There was a profound transformation. While a second ago he had been about to fall on his ass, now he was almost shaking from anger and despair. Kim thought she had seen it before.

"You can't be going anywhere right now. You can barely stay upright," Kim said.

Perversely, Kim thought that this turn of events might distract from the fight between them. Though it was really horrible to think that way. And – what would it mean? How bad was it? Were there deadly enemies lurking out there, trying to eliminate all of them? Would they need to fight for real again?

Well, at least they were finally inside the cabin now. Erik managed to get the lights on, but then he collapsed against the fireplace.

Kim led Ian to the table.

"I'll make black coffee. Then you'll have to stay awake just so that we see you're not going to die from the concussion. If you have one," she said.

Ian said nothing in protest, but Kim could tell he was not pleased.

And then there was the matter of Erik's condition. Kim got the coffee maker going, and then she went over to him. It was curious that now when she had these two guys to take care of, she could not angst over her thoughts as much, of what was the proper degree of misanthropy. Or even the band situation.

Erik was shaking his head slowly, almost in a catatonic state.

"It's over. Ian will never want to play with us. Mark my words," he said in low drunken growl.

"Well, there are multiple situations going on. We can't know that yet."

"What – other situation?"

"Jo sent a message. If I understood right, the studio is rigged. Some assholes have been watching it, I don't know how long."

"Fuck. Back to the old madness."

It seemed almost like Erik was going to cry.

"Last time – Ian came here to get my help. But if he had known what kind of – violent – shithead – I am, he wouldn't have bothered. He'll go away, as soon as he can. Then he won't come back."

Kim thought Erik would only sink deeper into self-pity. The drinking and the silence earlier in the day had only been the start. She had thought of maybe getting Erik to drink the coffee too, and he would come to his senses from that already. But what could she do now?

Not knowing better right away, she just sunk to the floor to sit next to Erik.

She did not like what she would possibly have to do, any more than being forced to kiss Ian. The behavior patterns were foreign. It was just a bit similar when drinking absinthe and bonding with Jo, which Kim remembered hazily.

"Hey. Remember that I'm in the same boat with you. I provoked the pool table guys. Do you even remember that?"

"It's nothing."

"I might have hit Ian first too. But what if he thinks of your fight in the same way too? That it's nothing. Now he's only concerned of his headache and the trouble Jo is in."

"I'm still a violent asshole. I dreamed –"

Erik's mouth curled into an expression of extreme pain.

"- of hitting you too. In a band rehearsal."

Kim felt her heart miss one beat. So that was what the nightmare had been about.

"But it's not real. I dream of killing God or Satan or my parents all the time," Kim replied.

Not really convinced, Erik just stared ahead in catatonia.

Kim felt very much lost, so she just wrapped her arms around his upper body, trying to get him to lean against her. Or to collapse into her lap if he was already in deep enough.

"Erik... Maybe – I shouldn't be singing doom metal when I don't actually understand it. At least not the occult shit. Necrotic Dust was great, but it's just a memory. If – I can play anything with you guys, it would be great. And if you'd just come back from wherever you are, that would be –"

Kim felt like she was no longer in control of her voice. She broke into tears, and could not remember if that had ever happened before.

"- the best."


	13. Chapter 13 - The Sleeping Beauty

**Chapter 13 – The Sleeping Beauty**

When confronted with that kind of a truth bomb, Erik thought it was like receiving an electric shock to restart his heart. He imagined his body jerking up for a second, then falling down limp. But his heart would be beating again.

He fought to clear the drunkenness from his mind. It was not completely successful, but at least he could be aware of Kim sitting next to him, in tears.

He turned to look at her. Kim needed to know of how monumental a thing she had managed.

"Kim. Fuck... I was too scared. That I'd offend you and crush your dream. So I kept my mouth shut –"

Kim stared back, possibly not yet capable of responding. Erik felt his voice picking up speed and conviction. He was not even sure where all the words were coming from.

"But hearing this... Hell, even if Ian is out, then we'll go on no matter what. No pretending, but just bashing in heads. Musically, I mean."

Kim looked a bit questioning, like she could not be sure that Erik was actually coming to his senses.

"So... thanks," Erik finished.

Then he held her in return and kissed her lightly. But Kim did not visibly relax from this, actually she began to shake. It was possibly a reaction from adrenaline dissipating, or something.

"I need a drink now," Kim spoke at last. "To calm down. I didn't think I would make it –"

Erik did not like the idea of yet more alcohol intake. "Hey. It's all right. But I don't think that's a good idea now."

Kim was turning defiant quickly, pulling herself away. "You can't tell me what to do."

And Erik also knew better to not turn this to an argument. Just after returning from catatonia. He did not think Kim would turn violent at this point, so the worst she could manage would be to knock herself out.

"Fine. Your own responsibility."

Kim attempted to stand up, and finally succeeded. "Wise choice. Now, where's the absinthe?"

…

Jo thought they had found the prime suspect. A Raspberry Pi hidden in an air vent. Since there was no cellular data stick or the like connected, it had to be connecting to the internet through Russ's wifi. The power for the AC adapter had been spliced into a mains lead directly.

She sent a message to Ian.

 _Found the transmitter_

The message went through fast, but the answer took longer.

 _Great. Witnessing Kim & absinthe here. About contacting Eve, I'd need the laptop. I erased the Agent passwords from phone already. But she might not monitor those channels any more. Then we could be out of luck. But doesn't hurt to try_

Jo had already had the suspicion it might not be easy.

 _I'll try to get a little sleep, then I'll head your way with it. XOXO_

Ian replied faster this time.

 _Sleep well. And drive safely tomorrow. XOXO_

Now it was very late, almost morning, and Jo thought she was dead tired. Though she also knew it was not a good way of tired, her mind was still too much on overdrive. She would let Russ continue the seek & destroy mission if he was still up to it. They had managed to stop the transmission, but still Eve would be needed to find those actually responsible. Jo would also pack the RasPi with the laptop, so Eve could eventually analyze the piece of enemy equipment, if they would meet physically.

Jo also thought of absinthe, being just a little amused. Apparently it would be a regular thing now. Ian had not mentioned anything of discussing the musical direction, so Jo assumed it had been going smoothly. Until she broke the news and probably made him incapable of anything else than worrying about the situation here. But they would meet soon, and then the unnecessary worrying would be over.

…

Ian had no more messages to type, and he thought he had enough of the coffee too. It should have been proved by now that he would was not going to die from head injury. The headache was still there, but not at full intensity any more.

But as Kim had not stopped with the first absinthe shot, he could guess it would not end well for her. It was certainly familiar. Sometimes the brain just needed to be reset, that much Ian knew. At this point she was sitting behind the drum kit, playing quietly with the unplugged bass guitar, having just a bit of difficulty staying upright on Erik's drum throne.

"Hey, sorry for punching you in the face," Erik said to Ian. "Can I sit here?"

"It's your table," Ian replied.

Erik sat down warily. "But for real. Can you forgive me some day?"

"I'm working on it. This stuff at Jo's home is occupying me more though."

"Right. Do you have a – plan?"

Ian was a bit weary to explain it again. "We'll try to contact Eve. She'll know how to find them."

"The hacker girl. Right. #JustHackerThings. Or #JustAgentThings. That was classic shit. Though the adventure itself wasn't fun. Like it never is."

Ian was a bit irritated to hear Erik ramble. But maybe it was something he needed to do. At least it had sounded like all their options would be open now, music-wise. Somehow, it seemed that musical violence might be the key. In other words, going back to what Ian knew the best.

"The end of it was of course legendary. The MSA hearing. Am I bothering you?" Erik asked.

"Sort of. But it can't get much worse than the headache itself, so go ahead."

"What do you call it in guitar playing when you try to minimize the picking hand motion? Economy picking or something. And it was so fucking perfect how you'd end up with Jo on the MSA meeting room table. There was no wasted motion at all."

At this point Ian did not feel like telling to Erik that this, and many other tricks would be revealed in a book coming to your friendly neighborhood online store soon. But he was nevertheless just a little surprised that Erik was familiar with guitar playing terms to that degree.

…

At some point Kim just started to feel ill. Very ill. Something was most definitely coming up. She put the bass guitar down against the amplifier. It did not stay there but fell on the floor, making a hell of a noise and denting potentially both itself, and the floor boards. But too late to correct that. She had to rush to the bathroom.

Kim recalled a black metal song title. Something Viktor had once listened to. It was possibly Immortal. "Throned by Blackstorms."

Now she needed to reach the white throne and align her head with it, before it would be too late. The storm was coming.

…

"Look. That doesn't look exactly healthy," Ian said to Erik.

The bathroom door was open, the light on, and Erik could well agree. Kim was crouched over the toilet seat, unmoving. Erik could not deny the concern. It was exactly something like this he had anticipated. He closed the distance quickly, crouching down next to her.

The breathing was even and heavy, so Kim definitely was alive. Erik could also not deny the relief. He shook her a little, but she appeared rather impossible to rouse. Let her sleep it off properly, Erik thought. He grabbed her under the arms, lifting her off the toilet seat and into his lap. There was some puke on her mouth, and a lot more in the toilet bowl. But the floor had stayed clean. Kim's aim had been spot on.

Erik tore off some toilet paper and dampened it under the faucet to wipe the vomit off. It was only then he caught Ian staring.

"Nothing," Ian said, looking away.

Erik potentially felt just a little embarrassed. "Does Jo do shit like that?" he asked.

"Not to that degree. And the last time it was more extreme, she handled it alone."

Now Kim's face was clean, and the toilet was flushed, and Erik just sat with her on the floor, watching her sleep. He felt somewhat emotional, hoping that just for now Kim was free of any pain. Tomorrow it certainly would be different.

"There's actually a song exactly about this," Erik said, while he stroked Kim's hair a bit. It was the proper thing to do now.

"Swedish of course, like all the best death metal. But the guy in it contemplates suicide. I wasn't that far gone. You do believe that?" Erik asked Ian.

"Of course."


	14. Chapter 14 - Blood and Gasoline

****Chapter 1**** ** **4 – Blood and Gasoline****

Jo had guessed exactly right. She had gotten just a few hours of sleep. It was a little past 6 AM in the morning now. She was tired, but restless. An exact continuation from the night. As she had not drunk that much, she did not feel hung over. It was just better to get going. The sooner they would be able to contact Eve, the sooner things would begin to unravel.

Jo made sure the laptop and its charger were both packed in to her backpack. She also put the Raspberry Pi device into a smaller side pocket. She was not even going to wake Russ up. She just made breakfast by herself, and messaged Ian one more time.

 _Leaving now_

The sky was cloudy. It was possibly going to be a rainy day. Jo crossed the yard to the truck and went in. She felt from underneath the sun flaps, the dashboard, and the glove box, searching for extra devices in there. But there appeared to be nothing.

To be sure she would not get lost on the way, Jo punched in the address to the GPS navigator. Now that she thought – she had never been inside Erik's cabin? The absinthe session had been conducted on neutral ground, in a larger rented cabin.

Then it was time to start the engine and be on her way.

…

"What are they voting on this time?" he asked.

He thought they might be going overboard. Being too obsessed. He had only wanted that the band - in whatever line-up - would make more good music again. Angry music. Like he knew they were capable of. He thought even the stories had gone overboard, at times. But there was heaps of stuff like that on the site anyway. It was just more added on the pile. And he liked writing, even at his age. Trying to get inside each person's head.

Writing Ian was the most fun. Because he would always be struggling with the guitar, and everything else.

"It's better you don't even know," she answered. "It's like a world of its own. I don't even know them, as they just exist virtually. But now we can finally afford to leave them, like this whole country. Go back home at last for a fresh start."

…

Ian woke up just before noon. He thought the headache was worse again. And it had not been proper sleep, not nearly the whole time. Listening to both Erik and Kim snore had made sure of that.

He made himself coffee, and ate a loaf of bread, while Erik and Kim were still in neverland. Intermittent rain hammered against the cabin's roof.

Ian thought of when Jo would be arriving. If she had left at roughly 7 AM, it should not be long.

He remembered the officer talking about the black bear roaming the woods. Was it still out there? Well, at least Jo would be safe in Russ's sturdy truck.

…

Jo reached Rocks Falls. The GPS showed the intersection, where to turn on the forest road. The start of it would be familiar. But the end of the route to Erik's cabin would be different. Still, there were only about twenty-five miles to the destination. It would not be long now, though Jo guessed the very end needed to be taken slow.

On the forest track now, keeping an eye on the navigator to make sure she would not miss any of the forks.

Russ's truck was in its element here.

Suddenly Jo saw a large, dark shape cross the track, perhaps a hundred feet ahead. It disappeared back into the cover of the trees.

A bear?

Last time they certainly had not seen one. It reminded Jo to be cautious. To respect the wilderness. But now it was gone, and Jo did not see it again.

The next fork would soon be coming up –

As Jo had her eye on the GPS again, she heard a sharp pang from underneath. It sounded like one of the tires, though Jo was sure she had not driven over anything heavy and damaging, like a large tree branch.

The road was curving to the left ahead, but as Jo turned the steering wheel, there appeared to be no connection to the tires. She pushed the brake pedal, and it felt odd too. It did not resist at all.

Jo felt the uneasy rush of adrenaline as she understood that the truck was out of control, and it was going to end up in the ditch on the side of the road. Was it sabotage? Related to the transmitter? Part of the darknet reality TV show too?

Or just bad luck?

Jo braced for the inevitable impact, and tried to force herself to stay calm.


	15. Chapter 15 - Against the World

**Chapter 15 – Against the World**

By now the hammering of the rain was constant.

And Ian thought that Jo should have arrived already. He could not help feeling anxious; there was the unpleasant ache in his chest that in turn made his head hurt worse. Once he even saw spots before his eyes, and had to sit down at the table to wait for it to clear.

Once he could see clearly again, he immediately called Jo.

The emotionless, pre-recorded voice said that the number was not reachable. And Ian's blood went just colder. He thought he would have to snap into action right now. He would take the Toyota –

But wait. He could not be sure of what had exactly happened, if something had. He remembered the bear the officer had told about. Was it still out there? Or could it be even worse, like the darknet reality TV escalating to an actual human hunt?

In any case Ian thought he better be prepared. Armed.

The weapons cabinet against the wall was of course locked. Erik was responsible. So where was the key? Erik was still snoring, and waking him up would have meant wasting more time explaining things.

So Ian would try his luck first.

Erik had his clothes in a heap next to the bed, and Ian rifled through his jeans first. There was a promising round-shaped key, and Ian went to try it immediately on the weapons cabinet padlock.

Success!

Ian felt just a bit dirty. But time was of the essence. He took the black Mossberg shotgun and as much 12-gauge shells as his pockets could fit.

Then he was out of the door, headed for the Toyota.

On the steps he felt uncoordinated again; the headache was flaring up once more. He had to pause just for a second.

But not many seconds more, and he had the engine running, and turned the car around quickly.

…

Jo thought she had been in luck to be going slow, only thirty miles per hour. She thought to not have broken anything.

Still the jolt had been far from pleasant.

And she had felt like shit for breaking yet another of Russ's vehicles.

She had immediately thought of calling Ian, but the phone had just shown "no service."

At first she had thought she could stay inside the truck and wait. Ian would certainly come looking for her at some point. And if what she had seen had really been a bear, it would be safest there. It also meant shelter from the rain, which always came back after pausing for a while.

But then she had smelled smoke, and true enough, black smoke started drifting from under the hood. Something had broken or spilled in the now diagonal engine compartment, and it would get unhealthy soon.

So Jo had been forced to take the backpack and the GPS navigator, and exit. Thankfully the driver's door was still functional, so she jumped down to the ditch. She thought her left foot bent momentarily in a nasty position, but there was no sustained pain. She would be OK for traveling on foot.

The smoke was thicker now, and Jo headed further away from the truck to be safe. The navigator showed half of the battery bars remaining; it was old already and could not keep the charge well.

Likewise, Jo kept looking at the cell phone. Still no service. It was possible it had been just damaged in the crash. Or that too was the darknet doing its thing.

Whatever it was, it did not matter. The rain began for real now, and in minutes Jo's clothes were soaked through. She would just try to make it to the cabin as soon as possible.

…

The Toyota trudged along the forest track. In each curve Ian slowed down to make sure he would not be running over Jo if she was coming to meet him.

But the track was very empty of anything resembling life. He would just have to push on.

The shotgun was on the passenger seat, the internal tube fully loaded with five rounds and one in the chamber. If he would run into police again, it would land him in serious trouble.

He considered his chances if he was to run into an actual, armed mercenary team. In his current condition, and with the relatively slow and ineffective shotgun, they were not good.

For a moment, his mind went into very dark directions – what if they would already have killed Jo? Then any revenge he could exact would be very meaningless, and he would rather hope for the end to come soon for him as well.

…

Jo thought she heard something – rustling of bushes and tree branches from some distance back. She picked up the pace, and switched to the other side of the track. Soon there would be a fork, and she would need to turn left, so it was good anyway.

She also looked behind, but could not see anything moving now. The heavy fir trees provided too good visual cover. She could not help paranoia creeping in.

The sooner she could get out of these woods and at the cabin, the better. The rain was the least of her troubles now.

Some time after passing the fork, Jo began to hear the sound of an approaching engine. Very faint at first.

It could be Ian, coming to get her. Or alternatively, some of the locals that could give her a lift.

…

The Toyota rounded one more curve, and now there was a straight ahead, perhaps even a quarter mile. And Ian thought he saw something move at the far end. A few seconds, and he certainly recognized it as a human shape, medium height.

It could be Jo, so Ian pushed down on the accelerator.

As the Toyota covered the distance, by now Ian certainly saw it was Jo, jogging forward in the rain, the hood of her sweater pulled over her head, all of her clothes absolutely soaked. As she looked up and recognized the vehicle, she picked up the pace.

But some twenty yards from her, Ian saw something additional moving.

A large black shape, coming out of the treeline. The bear. Ian's mind raced into action. He would have to catch Jo inside the car without stopping.

But he thought the bear was too close already. So instead, he took the shotgun and braked to a halt, putting the car into neutral. He opened the driver door and leaped out, shotgun in his hands.

"Jo! Behind –" he began to shout.

But just then he felt the headache intensify and consume all of his consciousness. He was blacking out. The motion had been too sudden, made worse by him reaching out for the shotgun at the same time. And he understood that due to him not being combat ready when it mattered, Jo would be mauled and killed by the bear.


	16. Chapter 16 - Shelter from the Rain

**Chapter 16 – Shelter from the Rain**

"Ian!" Jo shouted as she saw him fall out of the car. Was he hurt?

And what had he been saying? Jo thought her mind raced like never before.

Then it occurred to her to look behind, and she froze as she saw the large black bear walking on four legs, crossing the ditch right into the middle of the forest track. Paranoia was replaced by just pure terror. This was something she had never encountered as an Agent.

Jo saw the shotgun that had fallen in front of Ian, but would it do any good? If the first round would not kill the bear, it would make it fucking angry instead. The fight would turn into a bloody melee, and she could only come out as the loser.

She also thought the bear would certainly be interested of Ian's prone body. Maybe it would drag him away. That could not be allowed to happen.

Keeping her eyes locked to the bear, Jo walked cautiously backward toward Ian, until she was at him and crouched down. Ian appeared to be out cold. Or maybe stirring, but too slowly. The wet mud had already dirtied his face and clothes, and Jo got some of it on her too.

They would have to get inside the Toyota and fast. Just for the moment, the bear gazed at them with curiosity, staying in place.

OK, here goes, Jo thought. Route optimization.

The distance was at least practically as short as it could be, and Ian was oriented the right way. Just get him on the driver's seat first, get the doors closed, and then figure out what next.

Jo thought to take all the advantage she could get, so she looped Ian's left arm around her neck first. She thought she had a solid grip on him, then she just needed to lift.

As she did, pain flashed through her lower back. She was certainly not doing it right. But she had Ian in her arms now, and rose to a semi-crouch first, then to standing.

It would have been easy from that point on, but then the bear got more interested again.

And Jo could not do anything else than to freeze in place once more. Her arms were beginning to burn. It was totally unfit for the occasion, but maybe thinking of Ian's time = pain equation eased her mind just a bit.

Jo knew it was absolute madness, but she just kept staring the bear right into its eyes. She was not sure of how many seconds passed.

But finally, the bear appeared to just get bored. It turned and began to walk away.

And Jo practically tossed Ian into the driver seat, then fell onto her knees next to the front door from exhaustion, panting heavily.

What next? Ah yes, the shotgun still lying on the ground. It was better to be safely locked up in the trunk.

…

It was a little easier now that Ian had regained consciousness and had moved on his own to the front passenger seat.

Jo drove toward Rocks Falls with extreme caution. Her back still hurt a bit, coming in pulses.

They would do this properly now. Get Ian to an emergency clinic. He had said the headache had almost faded, but Jo did not exactly trust him now.

Apparently it had been all about searching for the right musical direction. And that had required Erik to hit Ian in the face. His nose was still nastily bruised, but did not look outright broken. Jo would certainly get to the bottom of this, later.

As for the meeting the bear, Jo wanted to think it had been just a horrible dream which never actually happened.

They had already passed Russ's truck. It had not burned down, apparently whatever had caught fire inside the engine compartment had finally lost to the rain. Still it would need to be towed away, and the repairs could be expensive. New engine in the worst case.

Jo felt Ian put his hand on her shoulder and squeeze a bit.

"One more time, that was awesome. But I'm also sorry it had to go that way for you. It's supposed to be fun and pointless instead."

That reminded Jo of something. She almost wanted to brake to a halt, but controlled herself at the last instant. She just kept driving at a very slow speed for the moment. She thought it was her thought which Ian had just stolen. But from what time and place?

…

Sitting on the couch in the corridor of the sterile-white emergency clinic, among others waiting their turn. It could take an hour still before he would get to see the physician, so Ian had the laptop on, the wifi hotspot active on his cell phone so that he could reach the net.

The Agent meeting channels appeared completely lifeless. Ian left a private message for Eve, but that was all he could do now. He also checked Eve's public Twitter profile, the one responsible for #JustHackerThings. There had been no activity for a month; maybe she had gotten bored. Or the more horrible alternative - if SCEPTRE's remains or the Yakuza or darknet thugs or whatever had gotten to her?

With disgust Ian also thought of creating a Twitter profile just to direct message her. Maybe that had to be the next step.

Next to him, Jo's face was a bit unreadable. They had wiped the worst of the mud from both of their faces, but she still had it on her hair. Plus it had caked on their clothes. So they could very well pass for a homeless couple.

"Jo? Are you all right?" Ian asked. He thought she shivered a little. Jo could also have the habit of pretending nothing was wrong.

"Yeah ... The back doesn't hurt any more. But I was just thinking - if you had not arrived just then -" Jo said quietly.

Ian still thought of him fainting onto the forest track as a kind of failure, shame even, but he knew Jo was right. Things could have ended up a lot worse. He put the laptop aside and moved closer. It felt very right to to hug her now. He should have done it earlier already.

"I know. Now we'll stick together until all of this is resolved. And -"

Ian looked Jo in the eyes and smiled.

"Do you know how the mud looks on you? Pretty, but also badass. It didn't get to violence, but I think you still qualify for a Violently Protective Girlfriend. I'm sure you would have kicked the bear's ass," he said.

Jo let out a laugh, just a bit forced. But what Ian was doing was fully intentional. Quote tvtropes randomly to cheer her up. It was going to go in the endearing fool chapter. He moved a little closer to her face.

"I'd also be your bride any time."

"Ian, shut up, those people are listening!" Jo protested, trying to keep her voice down.

"Don't worry. No more words."

Ian closed the rest of the distance and kissed Jo on the lips, just softly, just to remind her one more time that they had made it through, and he was not going anywhere now.


	17. Chapter 17 - Neuromancer (Pt 1)

****Chapter 17 – Neuromancer (Pt. 1)  
****

The final betting round had concluded. Not that it affected the pay she would receive, but there was just a morbid curiosity to know. It was standard procedure - a cell phone photo taken by one of the participants at the emergency clinic had been analyzed by image recognition, and the AI had concluded it as positive proof of the final result.

 _IAN FATAL CAR CRASH 15%_

 _IAN KILLED BY BEAR 20%_

 _JO FATAL CAR CRASH 13%_

 _JO KILLED BY BEAR 25%_

 _ _BOTH SURVIVE (17%)__

 _NONE OF THE ABOVE 10%_

She closed the browser window. Her curiosity had been satisfied. As long as the funds would appear on her account, she would have no need to ever log in again.

...

The day was turning to evening at the cabin again, and Jo and Kim were submerged in a serious discussion. All through the day, after she had returned with Ian from the clinic, Jo had appeared rather apprehensive. Of course exactly due to the incident at Jimmy's Bar and Grill.

But things had started warming up little by little. Almost back to where they had been before.

The most important deciding factors were that Ian had not suffered any lasting damage, and he did not appear to be resentful any more. Partially, it was that he could not – Erik had also certainly noticed Ian taking the shotgun without permission and taking off on his own, and he had not been too pleased about that. So it was sort of a tie.

Jo had already shown Kim how she should handle the right hand picking technique if she wanted to play faster. But now they were back discussing.

"Sometimes I'm a bit frustrated," Kim opened up.

"Why?" Jo asked.

"Because it's always that I decide something, like that I can finally be a little more open, and then it turns out I can't, unless it's something very shitty happening and I'm forced to. There's no progress that lasts."

"It's how it often goes. After your brain has finished growing. But does it really have to bother you? At least I know it doesn't bother Erik. You're like him. Strong and silent I guess."

Kim thought for a moment. Sometimes it was very refreshing that they could spend an entire day speaking very little. And it usually took a very special occasion for Erik to open up on anything either.

"I suppose that's a good point," Kim answered.

"It can take something shitty to happen so that normal life feels good again. That's bit cruel, but again, like it often goes. Like the situation with the studio being bugged. But with you – was it that you didn't really want to play doom metal, but couldn't tell Erik, and he didn't want to, and thought he couldn't tell either?"

"Exactly."

"And when you finally got the truth told, it felt good? Like you hugged and kissed and everything was all right?"

"Well … not exactly. I went to drink absinthe just so that I could calm down. And … uh … I passed out and remember only bits of Erik … basically taking care of me. Of course everything was spinning and I felt quite sick yet, but my mind was so empty then. Except for Erik's words which repeated in my mind. Bashing in heads. In a musical sense. And that felt good. But I understand I can't make that a habit, or I destroy my liver."

That left Jo quite speechless, at least for the moment.

"But I suppose I could work on just telling the truth feeling good in itself," Kim concluded.

Jo nodded. "Yeah. Or you could work it into your lyrics. Bashing in heads with them too."

Kim had to judge this a bit before she spoke further. With any other woman, she could easily make an enemy for life, but she thought Jo was an exception, who could handle it.

"Now – this may be unwise, but I want no secrets between us. Last night we were returning here, but there was a cop car ahead, lights flashing. I was drunk, Erik was drunk, and Ian was out cold. We needed to wake him up to drive. And it required something extreme."

Jo frowned. "What?"

"Basically the fairy tale method. Just to shock him. I didn't want to do it either, but the seconds were ticking out."

Jo was shaking her head heavily. "Nooo –" she almost wailed. Then her voice turned harsh and precise.

"Next you're going to tell me you also bridal carried him?"

Kim thought this was already so extreme that there was no way out of the hole except through. It also tied into the vision she might have for the music now. Aggression and brutal honesty. If they could be bandmates after this, then the future would be open for anything. But if not – then she and Erik could search other options.

"No. We transported him by teamwork. But I suppose it wouldn't have been a problem. He's kind of light-built and … I don't know how to say it. But definitely perfect for you. Don't let this come in between. And ... sorry."

Now Kim thought she was done. She half expected Jo to slap her in the face. But instead Jo's expression turned a little mellow, along with her voice.

"I think you have some sort of death wish. But ... I guess that has to be taken as a compliment."

"Bandmates? Even after me telling this?" Kim asked.

"If we just figure out what to play."

Kim felt relief. Now there was nothing more to unload.

But just then a cell phone rang. It was Ian's. With space in the cabin being limited, he was occupying the drum stool now.

"Unknown number. It could be Eve. I'll put it on speaker," Ian announced in a loud voice.


	18. Chapter 18 - Neuromancer (Pt 2)

**Chapter 18 - Neuromancer (Pt. 2)**

Kim had heard Ian telling that he had created a Twitter account, AgentLegion, and direct messaged Eve. And after a while there had been just a short reply that she would call, asking to have the whole old team present so she could verify them. This was now potentially the call.

" _This is Eve. Is it Legion there? Demons still annoying you?"_

"Here," Ian replied. "And not that much. I almost miss them."

" _Satanna there too? What did you think of my name origin story then?"_

Kim thought this was too hard, or cruel. Was everything depending on her memory? What if absinthe had wiped it away? She had to strain very hard, until she remembered the "interview" at the nightclub Steel.

"I thought it was lame," Kim replied, in relief.

" _And Goat? Still reading action adventure trash?"_

"No, that was just the captivity. I rather play," Erik growled from the other side of the room, but certainly loud enough to be heard.

" _Agent Phantasm? Is the orange Datsun good to go again?"_

"No. It sits behind the studio, still waiting for repair. Instead I wrecked another car today," Jo answered.

" _I think this checks out. Listen, I've been following the darknet activity ever since. REX is gone, but there appear to be completely human assholes continuing the show to some degree. Possibly also a less advanced AI. I took liberty of already contacting Sebastian from the MSA, to put a little pressure on the Metal Archives and AO3 admin teams. I'm still waiting for him to call back, but I would assume they are already scared shitless, and full access logs should be coming."_

Eve's voice paused for a while.

" _The reason I wanted to stay silent initially had to do with the method Agents Legion and Phantasm used to – extricate themselves of the whole situation. If you remember, you were told a gas grenade went off in the REX server room and knocked you both out. That never happened. Instead you shot yourselves with tranquilizers to wipe your short-term memory. Because of that, I assumed knowing of the darknet's activities would be the last thing you wanted. But as things have escalated, that's no longer a sensible option. Basically, it's a popular sport to follow people that are deemed interesting enough. Some sites call them "lolcows." With the darknet, betting and more extreme activity is involved. Seems this time it went to surveillance, and potentially sabotage. For you, the term lolcow is not used, instead you're practically considered superheroes."_

Kim considered this. It was kind of flattering – and fitting. Like having supernatural felines showing up at a dessert research facility, if the whole thing had not been a hallucination. That certainly was superhero territory. But as long as it did not intrude upon their lives, she supposed those shitheads could do whatever they wanted in their own dark corner of the net. It was probably going to be impossible to stop completely.

Better to just not know about it. Or think about it.

"What does fanfiction on that other site have to do with it?" Jo asked.

" _That's possibly a side track, or misdirection. We'll know more when the IP logs come. Now I have work to do, so I'd like to cut this short. Let's make it so that Legion calls me to this same number, if you need to contact me. And I'll call back when I know more. And of course ... the transmitter. Legion, if you'd dump its internal memory and DM a link to me, it may be important."_

"We'll do that. Thanks, Eve," Ian said, but it appeared the call had already terminated.

...

Ian had finished dumping the Raspberry Pi's memory, and uploading it to a free temporary file download service. He sent the link as another direct message, then shut down the laptop. It was close to night already, and he was dead tired already. Likewise for Jo.

But he did not want to endure another night of Erik snoring, so he went to collect guest bedclothes for sleeping inside the Toyota. It was a warm summer night, so the temperature should not be a problem. Whether it would be very pleasant or restful either, would be another question.

"Some things never change," Ian said to Erik.

"What? Me snoring? I would have had extra ear protectors. Listen, I hope this situation gets resolved. I don't care even, if some stupid is writing stuff about me on the net, but actually spying on you is another thing."

"Yeah. You should check the cabin too, and your truck. As the bet was about the bear too, so they could have associates nearby."

Erik appeared thoughtful. Ian could imagine his wrath if it turned out the cabin had been desecrated as well.

Jo joined them. "I called Russ with your phone. It at least works. He knows of the truck now. Was mostly just glad to know that I'm safe. Truth be told I left out a few bits ... but we can have it towed tomorrow. The Agency account should still be enough for repairs, as well as the bill from the clinic, but I guess ... soon it's time to get work."

Ian had been thinking about it. It would not necessarily even be too bad. "I could summon Trevor to make a comeback. Not necessarily the same name. But he knows something about coding, and I can learn more."

"Sounds hardcore," Jo replied. "I was thinking something like giving guitar lessons, or if some music store would need an extra clerk. Though it won't pay nearly as well."

Ian liked the sound of that. Jo would have the required expertise. In comparison, Ian thought his whole musical skill set to be much more of a blunt instrument.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with that either. Especially if their direction would become more direct and aggressive again.


	19. Chapter 19 - Rebellion in Dreamland

Shout-out to RoninOfHell! I basically borrowed a little of your ideas.. shamelessly! This chapter is also a shout-out to fanfiction in general. We have all the power and none of the responsibility :) Can you imagine a chapter like this seeing anything else than the cutting room floor in canon fiction? Even if it manages to deepen the character relationships, or something. For more upbeat chapter background music, ReinXeed's cover of Sleeping In My Car by Roxette also fits!  
\- ArmageddonClan

 **Chapter 19 – Rebellion in Dreamland**

Now it was just Erik and Kim inside the cabin. Thinking back to Eve's call, Erik could only think, the ride never ends. It had been too clean, almost too easy, how their adventure had ended back then. Erik had not even understood properly what the REX had been, other that it had infected the computers of the supposed good guys. Good guys that really liked to torture people.

Of course the worst part was that it was not even the darknet activity that had threatened them most, but just Erik's own impulse for violence. It could have ruined everything, and there was no magic cure for that. Except to be more aware of himself, and make sure to let out the steam in healthier ways, in advance.

Erik thought to start with scanning the cabin.

"Let's check this place now," he said to Kim. "Kill all the lights and electric devices, but not the main breaker."

Meanwhile Erik went to dig in his toolbox, to fetch the only thing he had kept here from his Agent adventures. The Agent Multipurpose Tool.

He switched it on. The battery was still good.

Ian had once drilled him well in the modes of operation, so he remembered almost all of it by heart. They would need the EM radiation analyzer, to check if there were any extra devices in the house, they weren't aware of.

…

Inside the Toyota, Ian and Jo had settled to the front seats reclined maximally and in the maximum rear position, under blankets. The driver side window was minimally open to provide fresh air. Jo thought it almost felt comfortable.

Whether getting sleep would succeed, was another matter. Again, many thoughts were bouncing in her head. They had been discussing the REX evidence that they had needed to unsee.

"I guess we needed the escape," Ian said. "If we want we could ask Eve what exactly we saw back then."

"Not sure it's useful any more. They must have moved on," Jo replied.

She shuddered a bit thinking back to it, also the act of shooting yourself at close range. Something could have gone wrong, right? But then she started to think of how it must have happened in practice. She had woken up first, so it had to mean she had also fired first. It was actually very easy to imagine Ian insisting on this, just so that he could make sure she was comfortable. That part of him was so easy to predict. Jo could not help feeling a bit warm inside.

Then she realized something.

Ian did not necessarily need anything else, and she had kind of given him a hard time for it. And if Jo thought about it too deep, it was because she possibly felt uncomfortable at it. And usually the problem woud be just the other way around, the lack of commitment or attention.

Well, Jo supposed, the mind needed to create problems if there were none. She thought she needed to unpack this somehow, even aloud to Ian. But it would end up potentially as a horrible mess.

Though what she could predict, he would probably be rather understanding. Maybe this could be used as material in the book as well. If it would go forward.

"Ian –" Jo began. "I thought back to when I said that everything is fine for you –"

"That's settled already, and is nothing," Ian replied.

"Yeah, but listen. I said it because – it guess it scares me a little if you would be content just with being with me. Like, I don't want that kind of power and responsibility. And I know - that must - sound very horrible and spoiled and stupid."

Ian appeared to think for some time, his face not betraying anything. Then finally it turned into a kind of a smirk.

"Don't worry. There's always at least three extra things. You know what they are?"

Jo thought Ian might have told them some time. One of them possibly was playing. But the rest?

…

Erik had checked the cabin thoroughly, then given the tool to Kim so she could re-check.

But the place appeared clean.

"No electric eyes," Erik said. "Actually I was almost hoping to find one. Just to show those assholes how we do things in here. But we can also do without."

"What do you mean?" Kim asked.

"Pure fucking thrash. Or speed. Whatever it is."

"Those two are trying to sleep."

"I don't think the sound carries that well outside. If it's a steady low noise, it might even help."

Erik stepped behind the drum kit, digging for the ear plugs from his pants. Kim appeared reluctant at first, but Erik thought that the wish to unleash pure aggression was too great, and won in the end. She put the extension cord for the amp and the PA (which had been disconnected during the check) back in to the wall socket, then took the bass guitar, the black Squier.

"You have the earplugs?" Erik asked.

Kim flashed a funny face at him, but took them from top of the bass amp. Erik just thought that he wanted Kim's ears to withstand many years of musical abuse to come.

"What do we play?" Kim asked.

"Just something fast and raw. We can improvise."

"From E?"

"I don't care. I just supply the hellbattery."

That was a reference to Cyberpriest times. In some way it was inevitable, to have to compare Kim to René in the bassist / vocalist / leader role. Kim would not be uncompromising and supremely confident and creative in the same manner. It would be more of a team effort.

But enough of thinking. Erik started a fast double kick beat, which Kim joined with a repeated low note, played very hard. Erik thought Kim would either break the string or wound her hand and bleed all over the pickguard.

She also started to shriek into the microphone. No actual words yet, just a high, harsh wail.

This took Erik a little by surprise. It turned out Kim had hidden power reserves she had not even used yet.

…

The playing could be heard inside the Toyota, mostly as a muffled, low and indistinct wall of sound.

The high singing was a little clearer. It took some time to even understand it was Kim's voice. Completely different from the hollow and calm doom metal singing.

When Ian listened more, he could also hear the snare. The beat was relaxing, in being so even. Erik was possibly trying to exhaust himself by playing as hard as possible.

Ian thought of the darknet people, still running their own shitshow. Possibly, just knowing of their existence could provide a lifetime of hostile metal inspiration. He remembered the feeling of cold apprehension, when he had initially learned of SCEPTRE's existence. This whole episode was like more of the same, of course not nearly as bad.

He also thought of Jo. She was by now halfway in his lap, possibly already asleep.

And Ian felt just a little melancholy. How could he ever make her feel completely at ease?

Possibly, that was not even the point. Or his responsibility at all. Instead, they would just fight on every day, whatever would come their way.

Ian thought he was only halfway awake now. It was a little like slipping into dissociation, which he had not done for a long time. But from somewhere from that twilight zone, a chord progression came back at him. He thought to have remembered it partially at some point, but this was the full deal. And yes, it was basically about Jo.

This time it needed to be recorded, so Ian dug his cell phone from the driver door storage bin, and activated the notepad. He started typing on the touch screen, almost afraid of the memory dissolving before he would reach the end.

 _Verse 1: Dm – Am – F – C – Gm – Dm C G – Gm_

 _Verse 2: F – C – D# - Dm – G – A# - D_

 _Verse 3: (w/distortion) A#5 – D5 – C5 A#5 D5 – G5 – A5 A#5 - C5 – G5 – A5_

 _Repeat verse 1 & 2_

The last, militaristic part was about Jo's strength of spirit. Like staring down the bear.

There was also a melody to it. To get it recorded too, he would need to hum. Ian did not want to wake up Jo, so he had to do it at extremely low volume, cell phone almost stuck in his mouth. Jo shifted once during the procedure, but the rhythm of her breathing did not change.

Finally it was done, committed to more reliable memory than the human brain.

Ian was not sure if they could ever use it in the band, but that was not the point either.


	20. Chapter 20 - Avenger

**Chapter 20 – Avenger**

The morning was semi-cloudy as Jo woke up inside the Toyota. She thought she felt semi-rested also. Not something to repeat if they just had the choice, but at least they had had privacy. Today they would be on their way home, with some business to take care of. A new phone for her in addition to getting the truck towed. If they would meet Eve in person later, perhaps she could determine something from the old one that had mysteriously stopped working.

Ian was still fast asleep, his head against the window. His hair was a mess. Jo thought he could have passed for a high school senior on a summer trip with his first own car, instead of an ex-Agent with lethal skills that he was.

Jo guessed Kim had seen some of that same, but had no words for it. Jo certainly had. Young. Cuddly. A little bit vulnerable. There was no way to think about it without getting at least some degree of the feels.

The time was already past 9 AM, so it would be preferable to get moving. Jo thought that she could do all the driving, if Ian wanted to rest more.

It was just a little bit like the end of the MSA mission repeating. Jo could not help also remembering the tale of the previous night's events, but that just had to be disregarded. Or thought of as a form of CPR or something. In Kim's own words – "don't let this come in between."

So. Once more, but with feeling.

Jo reached for Ian's head and turned him a little. Then she kissed him, with very little force at first. On the second kiss, he moved a little. On the third one, his eyes opened.

"Is this the MSA helicopter?" Ian asked with a low, sleepy voice. "No. I see it's the Toyota. Morning, Jo."

Jo smiled at him. "Morning. You thought you ended in a time loop or something?"

…

With Ian and Jo already on their way, Kim drank her morning coffee. It was better without the hangover. The skin of her right hand palm was sore, and the left hand fingers were blistered. The playing had been more intense than Kim had expected. But she thought she'd adjust.

It definitely was violence in music form, reminding in some way even of working in security.

Kim remembered also something completely different. Tomorrow she would get her driving license back. So it was finally time to end this extended summer vacation. After the MSA-related adventure, the overwhelming majority of it she had spent here at Erik's cabin.

…

Jo drove, while Ian was submerged in another activity she well remembered – surfing through the radio stations, hoping to find something inspiring. They were just about to exit the forest road to Rocks Falls.

"Hey! Listen to this. I think this is the guy. I thought he had vanished for good," Ian said, suddenly very excited. "This has to be a recording, as it's so early."

He turned up the volume.

" _The next one is by request. The caller said the record holds a ninety-two percent approval rating from UltraBoris. I don't know who the hell UltraBoris is, but I must agree it's good. Or even very good. No trace of ultra-commercial shit, so you don't have to fear for your soul being emptied this time. The band is Kruiz, from Russia, and the year is nineteen eighty eight. I suppose it could be put in the speed metal category. The song is called Avenger."_

It was Jo's birth year. Metallica's "...And Justice For All" had been released the day she had been born, so it was interesting to hear what the other side of the world had been doing at the same time. Jo had to admit she did not know European old school thrash and speed as well as she would have liked to, apart from the obvious such as Kreator and Sodom.

Jo listened intently. The song began with long lead guitar notes over an arpeggio. It was hard to tell whether the arpeggio was bass guitar, a clean electric, or both.

A harsh but mournful voice began to tell the tale of a warrior who had wanted to live in peace, but was forced to return to fighting, to have his revenge. A muted distorted guitar joined in to also play the arpeggio, and the voice picked strength for the second verse.

This was followed by both the guitar and bass playing a lead interlude, after which the song would pick up speed properly, slowing down for the choruses, as the tale of revenge continued. Finally another lead interlude followed, and the end of the song contained more speed, up to an actual blastbeat, until it finally slowed down for a repeat of the intro.

Jo thought the song was almost perfect. It transitioned from one mood to next much smoother than Metallica had done the same year. Though the song contained a lot of lead guitar overdubs even over the verses. It would be very hard to reproduce live.

"That was surprising," Ian said. "Fucking great in fact. I had no idea Russians could do metal to that degree then. It was the Cold War still. Where did they even get their guitars and amps?"

Jo could see herself playing something like that. Preferably faster and harder, but still. Let there be no limits in the compositions.

"Let's keep that in mind. For inspiration. Or what do you say?" Jo asked.

"No objection. And did you notice the lyrics? That could be us again."

"I certainly did."

Jo hoped whatever they would need to do would not escalate into actual warfare. But symbolically, the thought of not giving up against their enemies was uplifting. Much better fitting than the WyvernForce song Ian had braked to, which basically had been just generic battle stuff, even if emotional.

"Hey. I checked Metal Archives. There's only three bands named Avenger. One of them split up … and another is nowadays Rage. The German band. I think AGENT could change name to that. Unless there are better ideas," Ian said.

Jo was not sure. There was no hurry to decide anyway.

"Let's keep that in mind too."

…

Erik was now up as well.

"Last night was great," he said. "I think that is the direction. Or at least keep it in mind as the basis. It was some band – I think Pantera – who said they would imagine themselves in the audience, and wanted to see the band play shit that would just crush everything completely."

"That makes sense," Kim replied. She thought her mind was a bit elsewhere, thinking of how she would organize her life from this point on.

"I also had an idea. What about you'd move in here with me?"

This was not completely surprising. After the MSA adventure, Erik no longer had another place of residence. He had terminated the rent contract for his small city apartment, and moved most of his minimal stuff here. He also had a cheap storage space elsewhere. But Kim thought it would not be the right direction. This was practically in the middle of nowhere, and cabin fever could be a real thing.

But what could she say? Possibly outright saying no would leave Erik disappointed, even to the extreme.

Then there was the option of stalling.

Fuck. It was hard, again. Kim hoped her expression betrayed nothing.

Finally Kim thought, what the hell. Take the immediate hit. She would see if honesty and whatever pleasure derived from it would outweigh the inevitable blowback.

"I – think it's not a good idea for me. I'd go crazy at some point. I get my license back tomorrow too."

Erik looked a little bit defeated. And Kim thought, here it begins. The blowback.

But then his expression changed, to something that was almost a smile.

"Do you know what? Then we make this the best day of your summer holiday," he said, using air quotes for the last words. "Like go swimming naked in the lake, and play more of that fast and raw shit until we both bleed. What do you say?"

And this was surprising.

Kim thought she did not even reply. She possibly just had her mouth open, and it was almost like blanking out completely for a second or two.

But then she found herself kissing Erik with forceful passion. A bit like the music they had played. Probably that also counted as a way of replying. This was followed by Erik lifting her in the air and them spinning around. That was probably against the 101 metal rules. But there was no-one to see.


	21. Chapter 21 - Battle Hymn

****Chapter 21 – Battle Hymn****

They had just finished buying a basic new Android phone for Jo from the electronics section of the Rocks Falls supermarket, or what tried to be one. Jo had to cut the SIM card to a smaller size using a cutter tool at the counter, at her own risk – the clerk would not take responsibility.

But it worked fine now when she tried calling Ian.

Almost just after this, his phone rang again. And Ian saw it was the number Eve had used last time.

As they were at the store, Ian could not put it on speaker. He would just need to relay the information to Jo afterwards.

" _Eve_ _here again. I analyzed the memory dump – the transmitter was just sending data to an SFTP site, with fixed IP address and credentials. That server is no longer up, so it's basically a dead end. But Sebastian has managed to be threatening in the meanwhile. So now we have full access logs for the Cyberpriest and AGENT pages at Metal Archives, and your member biographies. As well as for similar categories at AO3. There are edits at Metal Archives for early 2013 that came from the Innovativi3D company, now defunct. If I remember right that was a front for SCEPTRE. But now there are newer edits, that match the address many of the AO3 stories have been submitted from. It's a residential address. Using his unholy powers, Sebastian also got ISP access logs for the residence, and there's traffic to non-standard ports which might be darknet access. This looks like a solid lead. Now, Sebastian said that in theory this falls to MSA jurisdiction, as a follow-up to their internal security audit. As well as witness protection. MSA will cover our expenses if we want to examine that lead. It must just happen without any laws being broken."_

Ian remembered the Innovativi3D lead well. As it had led to his infiltration mission in the first place, way back. Trevor Ashen driving a green Ford Ka and working on SCEPTRE's virtual world engine.

"Is he joining us in person?" Ian asked.

" _At least initially, no. It depends on what we will find. But I suggest we start booking flights."_

 _..._

Two days later the five of them sat inside a large black Chevrolet SUV rented from the airfield. Kim was at the wheel, navigating the busy West Coast midday traffic under an almost painfully bright sun. They all had sunglasses, which had been bought mostly for the intimidation effect, but ended up also practical.

They were headed for the residential address in the suburbs. Eve sat in the front passenger seat, giving directions. Her short hair was purple now. Ian considered whether that was the sign of leveling up in hacking one more time.

In any case, it was a pleasure to see her again, after all the assistance she had given on the previous adventure. And it would repeat now. Ian was not sure how they would be able to repay her properly. But possibly she was doing this for the fun, or for a sense of justice. To see the darknet types burn, if it just was possible.

The single-story house was the home of Natalya Obarski, thirty-eight, and her teenage son Leon.

It was a little odd to think of. Why just those two? What was the nature of their involvement? It was likely the son who had made the Metal Archives edits, and written the stories.

What about the mother then? Ian tried to refresh his memory to the utmost. But he did not remember anyone by the name of Natalya.


	22. Chapter 22 - The Showdown

**Chapter 22 - The Showdown**

Now the moment was here. A few times Kim had been close to scratching a bumper of a fellow driver, but finally they were at the address, and parked the SUV to the roadside, about twenty yards from the house. The walls were white bricks and the roof was black and slanted, very unassuming and very much blending to the neighborhood with at least six other similar houses.

"Never again in a hellhole like this," Kim muttered. She had insisted on driving, to enjoy her license being returned.

But from this point onward the plan had not been agreed on very well. Obviously they would ring the doorbell –

"If we are to not break laws, we can't impersonate law enforcement," Eve said.

"What about we go in as ourselves," Ian replied. "Basically, now this Leon gets to see AGENT for real. He might shit his pants a little."

"I'm not from AGENT," Kim said. "Should I wait in the car so we can make a quick getaway?"

"Or you can intercept them if they try to get away. Might be good. You just can't run over them," Eve said.

Ian had been reading the stories a little. Some parts of them were kind of genius, like describing the composing of songs in extreme detail. Maybe the kid was a musician himself? Then there was the odd kind of fanservicey content, which Ian did not want to think much of. It included an obsession with getting the bandmembers shirtless, and also fighting a lot. This included a scarily authentic Quote / Curly Brace -style back-to-back combat scene which was almost like the kid had read Ian's mind, or had actually witnessed some of their Agent warfare. Finally there was some odd love triangle stuff, pitting Ian against Alexi Laiho from Children of Bodom to see who would win Jo's heart in the end. Well, they both had blond hair, so maybe it made some odd sense.

"I'm not from AGENT either," Eve said. "But I'll be the manager, OK?"

"Sounds about fine," Jo said.

AGENT only had the Bandcamp page, which practically had been abandoned after the demo release. But it would not be that big of a deal. Maybe they would be looking to picking up activity again, and wanted to control their brand image and had actually hired a manager.

"So. We go in, and confront them of the stories and Metal Archives edits. And then on to the darknet stuff, if we can make the link. Or even if not," Ian said.

"Yeah. Make them sweat properly. Within boundaries of the law, of course," Erik replied.

"Like threatening to sue?" Jo suggested.

Naturally the mother could just ask them to leave, and they would have to comply. But if she would feel she had a risk of a lawsuit on her hands, maybe she would listen a bit better.

"That's good," Ian replied. "But I think we just have to go in and see how this plays out."

With no more words, the four of them exited the SUV, while Kim remained at the wheel.

…

Eve rang the doorbell, while Ian, Jo and Erik stood behind her.

She thought of the worst case scenarios, like meeting the business end of a gun immediately. Well, then she hoped her reflexes would be fast enough to save her. It might have been wise to have bulletproof vests on, but they could not get serious gear on such short notice. Eve had kept the Agent coat, but it would not have fit the role.

Hopefully this would stay just as talking.

Maybe twenty seconds passed, and then Eve heard the door opening. It was the son, with a round face and longish light-brown hair, and grey jogging pants. Looking like a perfectly normal teenager.

"Hi. My name is Eve. I'm the manager for the band AGENT. They're also with me as you can see. Are you Leon Obarski?"

The boy nodded warily.

"And is Natalya at home?"

He shook his head. "No. And I probably shouldn't be talking to you."

It looked like the boy was struggling internally. Whether to shut the door right away or not. Eve thought she saw curiosity in his eyes, and it appeared to be winning.

"Is this about the stories?" Leon asked finally.

"Among other things, yes," Eve said, trying to remain calm and businesslike. Which was not natural to her at all, except when discussing purely technical matters and preferably through text. Now it was a bit like impersonating the enemy.

"And you're not brainwashed by SCEPTRE to kill us?" Leon asked suddenly.

Eve thought the conversation was escalating fast.

"No. We kick their ass. Or kicked. That was a while ago. You're the kid from the airport, right?" Ian said from behind.

"You remember?" Leon asked, his voice rising in pitch.

"You don't want to forget fans. As there might not be that many of them," Ian said. "But you have a few mistakes in those stories."

"Can we come inside to discuss?" Eve said. "Actually, some of this is pretty serious. It's not just about the stories."

"I'll get in so much trouble," Leon replied. "Fuck. Mom's preparing our exit. And fuck, that's another thing I'm not supposed to talk about. But you're basically … the good guys, right?"

…

They sat into the living room. The furniture hinted at some degree of wealth, with a large white leather sofa dominating the room.

Ian almost had his head spinning from the coincidence, but he struggled to stay in control. At this point Leon was doing most of the talking. The plan was that if Natalya was to arrive home, they would stay hidden and Leon would just act normal, until she was cornered. They had called Kim to move the SUV a little further away.

"I used a second account at AO3, logging in at the library so I couldn't be traced. Had to wait the queue again! Then I posted the video to one of the stories. I got it from Mom's machine. I guess … I hoped someone would act on it. Because I knew it was going beyond what I thought was OK," Leon explained.

"That was smart. And courageous. Like a proper hacker," Eve said.

"But I don't know who these guys are. Except that Mom needed to do shit to get the money. Also to get us moved for the first time. New names and stuff. It was after the company went under, but Mom thought we were not safe."

"Safe from SCEPTRE?" Ian asked.

"Yeah. She worked for them. I had to ask her over and over before she would explain. And after I knew ... I started writing the stories. Probably just to ease the anxiety. But I also enjoyed it."

Everything began to click in Ian's head. He certainly felt for the kid. But now he just waited for the door lock to turn again.

He did not have to wait for long. The door was opening now. But he needed to stay put, to not spoil the ambush. He would confirm very soon.

"Leon?" a woman's voice called from the door. But it was too short to confirm.

Leon had gone to the adjacent kitchen. "Here," he answered.

Ian heard the clicking of her shoes.

"Let's start packing," she said, and then she emerged to the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, and saw them all.

There was a definite look of terror on her face. Ian had a message ready to be sent to Kim, and he sent it now.

 _Target in. Block now_

Only then Ian looked up to confirm for sure. Natalya was short and slender, with short-cropped brown hair and glasses. Very businesslike. But he certainly recognized the face, as well as the accent. The face just looked visibly older now.

He had known her as Katya, working as an engine programmer at Innovativi3D.

Then Ian heard it muffled, the SUV engine coming to life some distance away. It grew in volume fast, then stopped abruptly.

"We haven't changed sides. We're still the good guys," Ian said, trying to sound confident.

They needed information, but the SUV was there for insurance. A citizen's arrest performed by Kim would certainly be overstepping it, as there was no imminent crime happening. Rather, they were the intruders. Hopefully it did not need to come to that.

The look of terror slowly changed to anger.

"You can't imagine the shit I went through because of your actions. It's very much by luck we're even alive," Katya said, the voice cold.

Ian wanted to say "You chose … poorly," but kept silent just for now.


	23. Chapter 23 - End of My Rope

**Chapter 23** **–** **End Of My Rope**

For a moment the silence just went on. Katya and Ian stared at each other.

Jo recalled some of Ian's stories from the Innovativi3D assignment. Apparently he had thought of her as some kind of Eastern-European assassin, who might kill him if he did not program well or fast enough. Almost resembling a Bond movie character.

The reality was not quite like that.

But Jo could not do much else than to observe. Let Ian do most of the talking if he had actual history with her. Would she confess? What she had said sounded like trying to rationalize whatever she had done.

"I could say exactly the same. We nearly died," Ian said, looking at Jo.

"You mean the bear," Katya said. "The scenario was too good for them to let go to waste. I don't know how much of it was the AI's doing. But in any case, I was told to provide the necessary setup. I can't lie, that after everything, I did it gladly. Do you know what it's like to have to go on the run? Constantly looking over your shoulder? Detach yourself from almost everything you knew?"

And Jo could not lie in turn, that her disgust was absolutely real.

"We do. But that doesn't excuse what you did. So you sabotaged the truck?" she asked.

"Yes. A small explosive device."

"And who are 'them' exactly?" Ian asked.

"They're just handles. Aliases in cyberspace. They could be anyone, or anywhere," Katya said, voice detached. "Next day, next week, there could be a whole different set of players. Different bets being voted for, and then played. To a degree, I could choose my assignments. And when I saw there was a game about you about to start, it was just too good to miss. Perhaps … what Leon had already started writing, inspired me."

Jo thought she was going from disgust to something else. Almost like pity. It was beyond fucked to be inspired into criminal acts from fanfiction written by your own son.

"Mom! I fucking hate you!" Leon yelled. "If I'd known it would go that far, I'd never have written anything! Seeing the studio was weird enough. At first I thought it was like – doing something just slightly illegal. Like pirating stuff. It was cool to get the gear right."

Just in case, Jo was recording audio on her cell phone. If she had thought her childhood with Russ had not been that great, this was whole another level.

Katya's voice began to break down. "I thought … tomorrow we'd already be on a plane home. A fresh start at last. I already had a job lined up. A big Polish game studio, senior-level engine work. But now –"

Leon's head hung down. Jo thought of how it would possibly go. Prison time for Katya, and him placed into a foster home, which could be anything. Punishment was certainly deserved, but the darknet games would still continue. Like Katya had said. New players. And new people doing the dirty work, for money or protection.

This if anything was going to inspire some fucked up lyrics, Jo knew. But in turn, they would possibly be looking over their shoulders for who knows how long.

Was it almost like back to square one?

Suddenly Katya's face took a look of defiance.

"But now you leave. You have no right to be here. I have told you too much. Actually I shouldn't have told you anything."

"I'm not going with you anywhere," Leon said, voice close to tears.

For a moment, Jo thought just in a selfish manner. When they would return home from this trip, there would be no sense of triumph. The degree of tragedy was possibly too much to even inspire any future musical output. Not to even speak of the stupid book. Jo could not be a hundred percent sure of what Ian was thinking, but somehow she could imagine him just deleting the material with extreme prejudice, with no backups.

If it had been just Katya, it might have been different. That could have inspired righteous wrath. Like their own version of Avenger.

But now, how could this be made right to any degree?

Silence hung in the room.

Jo was not sure where exactly she would be going, but she thought to try. Even if Katya was a piece of shit, the son deserved better. Right at the moment Jo did not even think of it as a tactical move.

"Leon. I know what it's like to think you have no parents any more. And it's a shitty mental place to be in."

"That's different," Leon said, staring directly at Jo with defiance. "I know about Antisound Studio. But your dad is not a criminal."

It was unsettling that practically a complete stranger knew that much. Jo had not looked at all of the stories thoroughly, but there almost certainly had to be ones about boozing sessions at the studio.

"But what if she would help to make things right? Like provide all the evidence she can?" Jo asked.

In her peripheral vision, she could see both Erik and Ian shifting, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. Redemption, or whatever you would call it.

"It doesn't change what has happened," Leon spat with hate.

Jo considered. She would need the most powerful counterargument she could think of.

"When I had enough, I just left without saying a word," Jo said. "And I thought that bridge had been burned forever. Then I felt so much like shit that I blanked the whole memory out for a long time. But have you seen the fourth Rambo?"

Leon nodded warily. "The one with the jeep machine gun. Blowing people to chunks."

Though the situation was raw and precarious, Jo almost felt amusement. For some reason that scene could connect almost anyone who had seen it.

"The end of that movie, where he walks the long driveway to his home, I don't know if anyone is supposed to be alive. Antisound Studio has a similar one. But the difference, for me there was that someone. And suddenly it was as if I had never left. What I want to say is, there may be some value in giving a second chance."

Katya looked at Jo now, her face a mask that did not exactly betray any emotion. Then she turned to look at Leon, possibly to see some kind of a sign, but the boy was very stone-faced too.

Finally Katya looked back at the four of them, and spoke very quietly.

"What would you need?"

Jo could see Eve's face almost light up. Now they would possibly start talking cyberwarfare.

"The hard drive from your machine. All the addresses and logins you used to communicate. Every handle you remember. All the message logs," Eve spoke.

"And the knowledge that should any further misfortune come to us from those fuckers, we're going to hold you responsible. Then you go down hard," Ian added.

"If I provide those, are you – letting me off the hook?" Katya asked.

Partially it did not feel right. The retribution would be incomplete. But then, Jo thought that she had shot Air Force soldiers who were just doing their job, under an extremely corrupt leadership. And she had been let off the hook.

Ian locked eyes with her, looking for confirmation. And Jo nodded just a little bit.

"The material will have to go to the authorities. But as no-one has died, they might not act fast. You may have your time window to leave," Ian said.

Katya exhaled. Her face betrayed just the tiniest amount of relief.

And Jo thought it was as fair as she deserved. It was naturally not a given whether Leon would want to stick with her, even if she complied to the letter. But that would already be out of their hands.

She thought that if it would go like that, and there would be no further intrusions on their life, then this could be just the right level of drama to actually inspire. And the ridiculous book would be safe from deletion, at least for the moment.


	24. Chapter 24 - Coming Home

**Chapter 24 – Coming Home**

The return flight was almost packed, and the air conditioning in the airliner's cabin was not working like it should. Possibly not at all. Ian felt exhausted and dehydrated. But still, their mission had to be considered a success. Without Jo, it would possibly have ended as a failure instead, in multiple ways. Eve had the hard disk now, and she would go over all the information Katya had given. It would also go to Sebastian at MSA, just in case there were some connections to the REX case, in addition to the federal and local law enforcement. Leave nothing unused.

It was almost perverse to think of the law being on their side for a change, without them being hunted down.

Erik had not been too happy with the outcome, with Katya possibly getting to leave the country with her son. He would have wanted punishment to be served in full instead. Kim had not really commented. Though done this way, they would not have to sit in court, being cross-examined as witnesses. Rather spend that time on music instead, and that Erik could agree on. It was possible some detectives would want to interview them, but it would be a comparably minor time loss.

Unlike the first flight, now Ian had an adjacent seat with Jo.

He could see she was writing on the laptop. But so far the page in the word processor appeared almost blank.

"Would it be horrible if I stole your idea?" Jo asked with a slow thoughtful voice.

"What do you mean?" Ian asked back.

"The chapter about being an endearing fool."

This was somewhat shocking. "Yes, it kind of would. What does that leave me?"

"I … just have some ideas," Jo said. "And you could continue if I leave something important out."

Ian considered. After Jo's contribution at Katya's place, he possibly could let it go.

"One condition. If you're going to write right now, I get to see it live."

Jo looked a little uncertain. It was sensitive to see a writer's process and all the work-in-progress sentences.

"Deal," she said finally.

Ian shifted in the seat so that he could see the laptop screen properly. Slowly at first, Jo started writing. Ian thought it went off the rails right away, but willed himself to stay quiet.

 _In fiction, there's the concept of Mary Sue, which is a character that's too perfect. In real life, you probably aren't perfect. But you may still be trying to be too perfect, doing actual harm to your relationships. Not necessarily just of the romantic kind._

 _Now, there are several ways around this. You can just try to tone down that impulse, and actually let yourself do some mistakes, as it may make you more approachable. Or you can go into the opposite direction, double down and try so hard that something unpredictable happens, and you actually make a fool out of yourself. That's a bit like a faulty guitar potentiometer knob going from full volume back to zero._

 _The art is that when it happens, by either method, try to find an angle about it that has something adorable to it. Obviously this depends on whoever is witnessing your foolishness, and different things probably work for different people._

 _Let's start with some examples._

 _The first one is more for women, but adjusted, it can work for anyone. Suppose someone tells you about something dangerous. And you just have to play a hard-ass, so you disregard what that someone is saying, even if it makes sense, and try to interpret it in an angle that you're being patronized. You get all worked up about it. The louder, the better. Then, just a moment later you realize your harshness. Then you can (optionally) apologize in some self-deprecating way, or just make a cute face. Usually it will work very well._

 _There are also methods to coax someone else into displaying their endearing foolishness. Particularly for relationships that have already developed, pretending to be asleep when you're actually not, can make various things happen. Be warned, you may not be ready for what happens, so try only at own risk._

This was quite unlike what Ian had expected. Somewhat unfairly he had thought to reserve the role of endearing fool only for himself, which was of course an incomplete picture. Now he wanted to do something, like tickle Jo, but it would break her concentration.

…

As the truck was still waiting repairs, Russ came to fetch Ian and Jo with the Toyota. For now, there was no problem staying at his place for some more time, but Ian knew at some point they would need a place of their own. Erik and Kim were probably headed in that direction too, but the cabin was not involved.

A few miles from the airport, Jo's cell phone beeped.

"It's Anthony," she said, turning to Ian on the back seat. "He's very very sorry, especially in light of what I've experienced, but it appears that their original guitarist is asking to come back. And since they have years of history, they're considering letting him in. Which means I'm – not going to be in after all."

Ian looked back at her. It was a little hard to even decipher her reaction. He thought there was relief, but also disappointment, or even anxiety.

This practically meant, their four-piece lineup would have to be the ultimate. The expectations were going to be high. And Jo could not use the prog band for inspiration or comparison.

"That sucks. Or?" Ian asked.

"Better this way. You can't give a hundred percent otherwise."

For curiosity, Ian opened the Black Flame of Sin's Metal Archives page. The original guitarist was called Bob, one who ticked off basically all the identifiers. A tall, rotund guy with a round mellow face, who played Fender guitars with scalloped fretboards. His primary hero was quite obvious.

Ian showed the phone screen to Jo.

"Yeah, I can't compete," she said. "But it's not really my world anyway. Knights, dragons, planets, pyramids, hourglasses... Others won't do."

Meanwhile Ian recalled his own words after the initial audition. To kick ass. With two guitars.

Now he imagined an epic montage. Repairing the truck (and possibly even the Datsun), composing long into the night, and possibly even continuing the book.

That last bit was just the least important.

Ian thought he also needed to start a regular practice routine, at last. Being sloppy would no longer do. In his mind, the band was still called Avenger, and that demanded being ready for war.


	25. Chapter 25 - Soldiers of Metal

**Chapter 2** **5** **\- Soldiers of Metal**

The adrenaline was running high. A month of intense preparation had led here. The new songs were just a bit rough around the edges, but still Erik thought the moment was right, to play them now and not later. Kim had worked her ass off with her playing and singing, and Erik had practiced until he bled all over the drum skins, working up to the same speed he had possessed while in Cyberpriest.

He considered whether he could believe in René actually watching them tonight from some place afar. The thought was appealing, but he was not sure. At least Erik felt they were certainly honoring his legacy, with a four-member lineup, two guitarists and a bassist / vocalist again.

But at least the audience would certainly be watching. This was now the start of the new chapter. AGENT no longer existed on Bandcamp. Instead, in its place, the band was now called –

AVENGER.

The capitalization was important.

It was only the medium-sized bar, Old Oak Barrel. Black Flame of Sin would be the "headliner," and they had given them this opportunity to be the warmup. It was understandable, to have to start from very small again. Possibly it was also a way for them to say sorry to Jo, as she had only had the opportunity to be their guitarist for a few days.

That was the way Erik preferred anyway. It was honestly impossible to think of Jo in a progressive metal band anyway, where the output always needed to be somehow artistic and reserved, never giving in fully to proper aggression.

Equipment had been borrowed from Antisound Studio, and they had spent a lot of time there, honing their set. It had been a good time – all of them had participated in the vehicle repairs too. Russ's truck had required the power steering and brake fluid containers and lines to be replaced, since those were what Katya's miniature explosive had succeeded in demolishing.

That bitch, Erik still thought. Hopefully the son would grow up wiser. Well, they were out of the country now, hopefully to never bother them again in any manner.

Erik wore no shirt, just camo shorts. It would get hot under the stage lights and when playing hard and fast for the whole forty minutes that their set would last.

He got behind the drum kit, and checked it for the last time. They had in-ear monitoring, using the prog band's monitor mixer. In that way, they would not be at the mercy of the room sound at all. As long as Erik heard the kick drums and snare loud, some bass and guitars, and Kim's vocals, he would be fine. He would set the pace in any case.

For inspiration and mental preparation, they had been listening a lot of the classic 80's material. Anthrax's first record, Exodus, early Slayer, the Russian band Kruiz from which the name was from, but only the good album that was in English – Erik could not stand the rest.

Wearing black denim, Jo emerged from the small backstage room, and plugged her ESP to the Marshall half-stack to Erik's left. Just a moment later, Ian followed. He also wore green camo trousers like Erik, and a black thrash vest which left his chest bare. He plugged the Warlock in to a similar half-stack on the right.

And finally, Kim came on stage, in black leather just like in Necrotic Dust, headed for the front center where the lead vocal microphone stood. She plugged in the bass and unmuted the tuner pedal to let the sound through.

There were cheers from the audience. And they were now prepared. To kill and destroy with a total speed metal assault, in the old fashion.

"We are Avenger and this is Unending War!" Kim shouted.

Kim had written the lyrics, and they could have multiple meanings. Either it was about being literally forced to fight again, or then it was just the never-ending mental battle everyone would have going on in their head.

The song was only about 150 BPM in a double-time feel, which meant it was good for warming up. It started with a low, bouncing rhythm riff, before transitioning into a short minor key harmony lead before the vocals would start.

Jo, Ian and Kim all banged their heads, their hair trailing after them, illuminated by the rapidly changing lights. This was exactly how speed metal should be played.

Finally Kim started to sing, in a high aggressive shriek that forced the sound guy to adjust the lead vocal channel down in volume.

 _Born into chaos - Back into war  
The sense of conflict tells that you're alive  
Taking no prisoners - The only way through  
Only the combat ready will survive_

The intro riff repeated, followed by second verse and the chorus, in which Ian and Jo also shouted for back-up. The chorus was a descending melody, which Jo had composed, being almost classical. Here Erik played double-kick throughout. At 150 BPM, it was not even taxing yet.

 _WAR! Lasting for ever MORE! The thirst for enemies' GORE!  
To go down fighting the only thing I will ask FOR!  
Through the nuclear black RAIN! Through burning torture and PAIN!  
Unending war HOPE TO NOT HAVE DIED IN VAIN!_

The solos started immediately. First one was Ian, with pure pentatonic madness, as was his signature. Then the song rose up to a higher minor key as Jo's solo started, with a bent high note, followed by a chaotic minor key pattern beginning from way up high and going low.

The final solo was another played in harmony, this time higher than the intro lead. Ian and Jo played it back to back, like they would be fending off enemies from both sides.

Then the beat stopped, and just Kim was left playing the bass part of the main riff.

Erik started a kick drum quarter note beat, and Kim encouraged the audience to raise their fists to it. Erik could see that there were not that many in the front, maybe twenty – the rest were just drinking at their tables or at the bar. But it did not matter yet – this assault was so relentless that they would just have to take notice, and more would hopefully gather.

…

The small crowd applauded and shouted after "Unending War" was over. And without wasting much time, AVENGER launched into the next songs:

"Deadlocked"

"Bonded By Blood" (Exodus cover)

"Warrior Heart"

"Darkworld"

"Bitter Taste Of Copper"

"From Hell To Eternity" (Cyberpriest cover)

"Yellow-Black Aggressor"

…

Now set was finally at its end, almost all the chaotic speed metal energy expended. The final song had been another Cyberpriest cover, "Necrothrashing Desecrator," and the instruments were just feeding back, as Erik played the final drum fill, a flurry of toms and double kicks. Kim's shrieks and laughs rose ever higher, until Erik finally counted to four on the hihat, and they played the final power chord. Erik ended with one more low tom hit, and the guitars were all rolled down to zero volume.

"Thank you," Kim screamed, then stepped away from the microphone.

The audience, now numbering perhaps fifty, erupted in cheers, chanting "We want more!"

But the timetable was tight, it was time for Black Flame of Sin already. Kim, Jo and Ian threw some picks to the audience and then it was time to disappear to the backstage, and drink their well deserved beers.

The show had been practically everything Erik could have hoped for. His initial vision of musical violence had held up and morphed into something greater with everyone of them giving their input.

Only the last cover he had been wary of, since it was challenging and time to practice had been limited, but that considering, it had been a commendable tribute. Even if played slightly slower to not have to rely on almost paranormal synchronization between them.

Kim smiled as she was about to pass Erik, holding the black Squier in her right hand. The bass would need to be upgraded to something with more quality, preferably before the next show.

"Fucking goat on his throne," she said, in a slightly modified tradition.

"Fucking valkyrie of warmetal," Erik growled back.

Strictly speaking they did not consider AVENGER warmetal, like Cyberpriest's vision had been. That belonged to the past. Still the word was good to use from time to time. Kim had also clearly given her everything, sweat on her face. Erik could sense the warmth radiating from her, as she leaned down to whisper in his ear. It was something Erik very much agreed with.

As she left, Erik began to remove the snare and cymbals so that he could join the rest.


	26. Chapter 26 - Fluff

**Chapter 26 - Fluff**

Some five minutes later, Jo left the backstage to watch Black Flame of Sin do their setup and sound check. Beer in hand, she wandered near the front of the stage.

After the set which had been successful almost beyond her hopes, despite the bar she had set rather high, and after the whole month of almost too intense preparation, it felt a little like she was not completely there. Like an out-of-the-body experience.

She knew Russ was closer to the door, having seen the whole show, but preferring to stay away from the front. Jo would talk to him in detail just a bit later. But being that he had been there for most of the rehearsals, Jo knew he was definitely digging AVENGER's material. In his words, it could have been recorded already twenty-five years ago, and that had to be taken as a compliment.

Trey was hitting the drums one by one now.

During the show itself, the playing would be ultra-technical and refined. Same for the rest of the musicians. And then Anthony's flawless powerful singing would top everything off.

But it would not have the same drive and violence and force, Jo thought. She certainly wished them good luck, to reach maximal success within their genre. Meanwhile AVENGER would chase its own uncompromising dream.

Jo's mind began to drift into some earlier memories.

Like the first Cyberpriest show with Ian they had managed to play all the way through. And the psychedelic tour van trip away from the city that had followed.

She was startled just a little, as she found the memory repeating live. Ian had sneaked up on her from behind and enclosed her in a warm, soft hug. A bit like in the van back then.

Jo turned to face him.

"Took this long to see it again. Turns out AGENT just wasn't enough," Ian said.

Jo could not exactly follow. "What?"

"Your proper after-show look. The perfect messed up hair. And like you're somewhere else just a little. There's no way up from that," Ian explained, his face basically all smile.

What could Jo even reply to that?

While she still contemplated this, Ian got closer and kissed her, soft at first like was typical for him (fluff metal), but then it was like the musical genre just suddenly changed. Jo felt just a little weak from her knees, and had to remind herself to grip the beer bottle hard, to not drop it.

When it was over, their faces were very close. On the stage, Scott started the bass check, playing a sustained rumbling low note.

"That was speed metal. Now I'll show you thrash," Jo said.

"Hey. Wait. One more thing," Ian interrupted.

He showed his cell phone, on which was their Amazon self-publishing bookshelf page.

 _NIKKI & DUNCAN MOORE_

 _PRACTICAL LOW-EFFORT GUIDE TO LOVING RELATIONSHIPS_

 _Paperback_

 _LIVE_

Jo had almost forgotten. The book. Finished very hastily while writing the AVENGER songs. Published with fake names they had used a long ago while purchasing instruments for the Agent HQ. They had just needed to come up with the last name. The content was just as low-effort as the name suggested. But it was live now, and their brain capacity would be free for something else.

"That's great. Now, here's comes the thrash."

It was a fast, almost violent kiss, and in the middle of it Jo imagined the movie in her head turning black and white and freezing, followed by a series of tour photos from venues of increasing capacity.

But all that actually needed to happen first.


	27. Epilogue - Fantasy

WARNING! READ ONLY AT OWN RISK  
\- ArmageddonClan

...

 **Epilogue – Fantasy**

Jo watched Ian hoover their two-room rental apartment without his shirt on. He circled skillfully around the ESP and the BC Rich Warlock on their respective stands. It was certainly a little amusing to look at. Was he trying to actually mimic the AO3 stories?

She was lying on the bed with the laptop, checking Metal Archives. The machine was a little old, the fan was getting noisy, but it would still do for some more time.

The page for AVENGER had been created, and looked even correct. Jo thought it had not been any one of them. Possibly Leon?

 _Country of origin: United States Genre: Speed Metal_

 _Status: Active Lyrical themes: Violence, Agony_

 _Formed in: 2014 Current label: Unsigned_

 _Years active: 2014-_

 _Members:_

 _Kim Thorsen Bass, Vocals (2014-)_

 _Ian Smith Guitars (2014-)_

 _Jo Alder Guitars (2014-)_

 _Erik Stein Drums (2014-)_

"The air this pushes out is fucking hot," Ian remarked.

"Yeah, sure," Jo said. "I still think you're trying to live up to the AO3 character. Not that I really complain."

Ian cast a long look at her. "Me neither."

That Jo could not exactly understand. She was just in her dark gray active wear. But apparently Ian thought it to be appealing somehow. She remembered the odd conversation with Russ some time ago – that what if she was wearing a trash bag instead. Maybe she should try?

Then Jo thought of something she had to ask. Related to the book, which even had a few sales. Not enough to qualify for a royalty payment yet.

"I still can't figure it out, as you've given conflicting information. So am I an awkwardly-shaped heavy object, something lightweight and supernatural, or what?"

Ian paused the hoovering, looking at her, trying to figure out the answer.

"You're precisely inbetween," he said, smiling.

That was a kind of non-answer, but maybe it was the ultimate truth.

"But I kind of wish the universe was more equal in that respect."

Jo understood what he was saying, but it did not really matter to her. He certainly fell to the former category, and wishful thinking would not change that.

Ian was not even finished.

"I also think that the chapter I wrote ... it's kind of an anti-trope. Not worth mentioning, unless it's about the actual wedding tradition. It's just a transport method. Like, there's no tvtropes page for 'riding on the rack of a bicycle' either. But still, I always go back on that ... as it also would be kind of unfair to not recognize. I suppose the main point is to be close to someone, and you can take that closeness from one place to another. Like a long continuous shot in a kung-fu movie, where you follow the hero going from floor to floor kicking ass."

Jo thought this had to be one of the most confused monologues from Ian ever.

…

In the Control Realm, Longcat presided over rows of rack servers in the void of space. It had kept an eye on the survivors and heroes of the dimensional incident.

It had certainly heard the sentiment of the guitarist, and appreciated it, as it sometimes felt more female, like in the climactic battle against Tacgnol.

But Longcat was not sure how the wish could be made reality, without bringing disastrous consequences. The physics in the previous multiuniverse had worked on extremely fragile special case logic. That should never again be repeated.

Longcat made a silent gesture of summoning, and a hatch in the void opened. Ceiling Cat peered out, and they conversed in trinary encoding for some time.

Not long, and the agreement was complete. Physics, at least in the first dimension, should not be tampered with. Humans just needed to work on exoskeletons, or choose their partners wisely.

But then Longcat began to think, what if –

Perhaps the propensity to acquire muscle mass, or how that would be inherited, could be tweaked.

Longcat ran a test simulation. Humans would be extinct in a few hundred years, regardless of the adjustment.

Therefore, it could go live.

Longcat entered two commands into the system, using direct mental control of the circuitry.

 _git commit -m "minor bridal carry equality tweak"_

 _git push origin master_


End file.
